Hello all, Fenny here. :)
It's been a while. This post is for all of you out there who's too old to be a teenager, but barely an adult.
Who's struggling to face adult life, no matter how much you try to resist.
I know I am one of them, and my only emotional outlet is writing, so here goes....
I have siblings, but to be honest, we didn't really grow up together. I am immensely proud of my siblings — I brag about them all the time to my friends. That's just how much I love them, even though I know it's annoying. People say, you will subconsciously put a bit of yourself into your writing. For me, perhaps that is the brother figure that's always been there in all of my works.
But as much as I love them, I never really talk about life with them. There was that one time when I was confused on which path to take after high school, but that's about it. I always wonder at how my friends can talk about boy problems to their sister and mother. For me, when I cry because of boys for example, I turn to my friends.
I turn to them so much about so many things, until one point I realise, that I might have rely on them too much. Especially when they have moved on with their lives and might not have as much time for me anymore.
How many times, have you been disappointed because you 'lose a friend' after they've got a boyfriend or girlfriend?
I had a set of friends before. One boy keeps changing his girlfriend, until one point I just wish he ends whichever relationship he's in just because he's a nicer person overall when he's single. It's petty, and it's unhealthy to wish him ill like that, but I had my phase.
Now I've gotten used to my friends getting in and out of relationships. I've began to understand, that when they're in love, they are not dumping our friendship aside. They're just moving on. They're just hoping to start a new family of themselves. And I should be happy for them, even though I get to see them less.
I couldn't understand that. I kept being the me in high school where I can talk to them whenever I want, dragging them around town to play everyday after class. I've always been a very fun-loving, but very demanding friend.
I don't 'lose my friend'. I'm just left behind with my childish mindset.
I've realised that for quite a long time, but refused to change. I still want my close-knit friendship like what I had in high school. When I moved here to the USA, I met quite a few people who might understand that. After all, they were a few years younger than me. Adult life with all its responsibilities were still far away from them, and I thought to myself that this is what I wanted. This kind of friendship was what I had in high school, and I will be happy to experience it again.
It all went well, and until now, I'm still good friends with them. But among them I felt older, among them I began to realise that I really ought not lying to myself. I'm not their age, and nor was it right to refuse to move on. Weird enough, among them, I slowly found myself.
So I began to think, whether it's really time for me to move on too. My friends from hometown has long since departed from the stage that I'm in. I'm late, but perhaps I can still jump onto that adult bandwagon.
I was scared thinking of it. It kept me up at night. I know that for me, facing adult life meant that I had to go back to Indonesia. After all, I'm only here in the USA because I'm running away from reality. From adult responsibilities.
I was so scared, that I asked my parents to let me prolong my stay yet again. I didn't want to go back just yet. I wanted myself to be ready when I'm back, and I'm not ready yet.
I've always thought that my Dad wanted me back in Indonesia because he wanted a company at home. But one silent night, he told me that he knew. He knew that I'm scared, that I just couldn't face the society. That I'm terrified of being a failure at workplace. That I saw my friends having marriages, when I stay single myself.
"But I was afraid too when I was young," he said.
He didn't say anything more, but that one simple sentence convinced me to go back.
About two months ago, I went back for a short holiday to my hometown. I was to see my old friends — the ones who had moved on.
Some of them worked already, some of them finishing their Med school, some of them trying to start up a company. One of them is getting married real soon. As much as I love them, I was nervous to see them.
But I saw them nevertheless. They didn't judge me even the slightest bit. I should've known better. Weren't they the girls who cried with me when I cried? Weren't they who stood by me when I was broken? Weren't they the ones who rejoiced for what I've accomplished, no matter how difficult their own situation was? That was how selfless they were, and they have for times and times proven to me that they were real friends.
I spent a lot of time with them during the holiday. A lot of fun times. Times that made me wonder....
Why, on earth, I thought that them being an adult make them less of a friend?
Why, on earth, did I think that they are a whole different person now that they have steady boyfriends and serious jobs?
We still laughed at the same jokes, we still hang out at the same places. I guess, even though things change, some just always stays the same.
I cried alone at the airport on the way to the USA. I'm not sure why. I just knew there was an overwhelming feeling in my heart. Perhaps, I cried because I was so touched by how much my friends loved me, despite how difficult I can be. I thought to myself how ungrateful I've been. Why did I lament so much about my life, when life has blessed me with such loving people around me, no matter where I go?
Somehow, I felt so relieved. I forgot what I was afraid of. Being an adult is not as scary as I thought. Being an adult still induces the same feelings from me. I still love my friends tremendously, and I still have fun even though we're moving on with our lives.
I'm cherishing every day in the USA with newfound light now. I know that these are the last days before I truly become an adult. I try to seize every day as best as I can. And for the first time ever, I'm not afraid of the future anymore.
Well, maybe just a little bit.
But I'm ready.