Farewell, My Teens
The spring sunshine of North China is really comfortable and cozy, and so is my feeling, as my 19th birthday comes, on such a typical day of March.
Like most of the youths at such age, I am definitely sentimental. Especially on a specific day like this, which is to me of a great importance. I just lie lazily in bed, and keep recalling the sweet memories of the passed years, as I know, from today on, I will be certainly out of my teens, and no longer be referred to as a beautiful-sounded word, teenager.
I know this day will finally come, even as early as I had just entered my teens, on March 13, 1996, the 13th birthday of mine. I know that everyone would have to enter, and leave his or her teens, without ever an exception. I don't have to think like this, but I really grudge the Golden Age of life, and hate to leave. In spite of a short, pathetic 6 years, the teens of mine is filled with brilliance, applause, laughter, as well as tears. It contains a full spectrum of colors, including the passionate red, the peaceful green, the serene yellow, the dusky blue and so forth. It really leaves a wonderful memory for me, deep in my heart and soul. And now, it is going to flow away, and never to come back again.
How to define the teens? Simply refer to it as the Golden Age? Perhaps I'd better find something in details. For girls, commonly, it may be a period of time when she is doing shopping downtown, with lots of her friends; and for boys, it may be a length of time while he is playing Age of the Empires at his computer, against some of his enemies. For me specifically, say, I definitely show no interest in those violent computer games, nor would I like to walk in the street from one to another, but only to buy some trivial things, which are of no use to me. I spend my teens, mostly, by doings what I am fond of. I fly my kite high up to the sky for fun and relaxation; I write and graffiti on my computer; I sing my favorite songs; I sit serenely and read science fiction; I watch cartoon and animation on TV. In this way together with monotonous, repetitious study, the six years of my teens has now gone by.
I try to imagine the 20-inch-long, medium-weighted infant who was given birth 19 years ago, on March 13, 1983. I could not form even a blurring concept, as that was really too far away. I even could only manage to find what I was like at the age of 2 to 3, from some very old photos of mine, most of which already faded out. I have changed a lot, from 20 inches to almost 70, from naive to mature, from naughty to mild, and from vulnerable to independent. Even a shadow of my childhood, I would say, cannot be at all reflected from me at present.
Perhaps I've thought too much. It is a happy, joyous day today, just like every birthday of mine. What I shall do is simply help myself to some delicious food, read the birthday card sent by my best friends, and prepare for the coming year of my life. Still, as I always did in my childhood and my teens, I expect my 20th birthday to come, on the same day next year, which will be considered as a milestone of life. Today I say goodbye to my teens, and what about tomorrow? Should it be better to devote myself to the coming life, and just create a more brilliant future, to outshine my sweet teens deep in the memory, and to add a brighter color to the spectrum of my life? I wonder.
I remember a beautiful stanza of lyric, in one of John Denver's songs, say, "How long it's been from yesterday / What about tomorrow / What about the dreams and all memories we share."
Farewell, my teens, on my 19th birthday.