I miss being six; my mum brushing my hair before school, making daisy chains at lunch and end of year plays. I miss the gold star Iād get on my spelling test. I miss cuddling all my teddies at night, so no one got left behind. I miss being transported to imaginary worlds with my friends on the playground. I miss the hazy warm feeling of Christmas, my biggest concern being the snacks I left out for Santa.
I miss being eleven, being the oldest in Year Six, my biggest concern being what birthday cake I want and packing party bags for my friends. I miss the feeling of playing in the fields on a warm summer day, my mum reminding me to put a hat and sunscreen on. I miss sticking temporary tattoos on before swimming lessons only to get washed off during warm up. I miss my first time reading the Percy Jackson series.
I miss being thirteen, my first shopping spree with my friends without my mum. I miss my biggest worry being my outfit for non-uniform days. Ā I miss my obsession with The Maze Runner and reading my first classic ā Little Women.
I miss being sixteen, the unseriousness of mock exams and gossiping in the back of the maths classroom. I miss dying my hair red. I miss the relief of having a fire drill before a biology test. I miss Harry Styles releasing āAs It Wasā.
I miss being eighteen, finally free from sixth form and preparing to move to uni. I canāt believe itās been a year since I first started. I miss being a silly fresher, feeling free from responsibility. I miss the thrill of my first Unit Monday and getting drunk in Oz Bar. I miss late night chats in my friendsā en-suite rooms, debriefing our nights out and sharing our excitement for living together the next year.
Iāll probably miss every second of my life, even this year. I know Iāll miss decorating my house with my friends and our trips to Sainsburyās and Sheaves. The fear of uni ending and ālifeā starting has really settled in now, itās hard to believe Iām already halfway through my degree.
No matter how old I get, Iāll always feel like Iām running out of time as if thereās a countdown to something Iām not quite sure of yet. With each year that I blow out my birthday candles, I just hope I can make the most of it before I have to grow up. Weāre conditioned to go out and live our lives before the reality of adulthood settles in.
If I had one wish, it would be to live it all again but perhaps the buzz about life is that we canāt return to the past and racing time is the only way of appreciating the present.
Our fear of running out of time is holding us captive, rather than enjoying the moment weāre caught up in making long-lasting memories. From moving in and meeting our flatmates to house viewings and pub trips, we try to capture every moment. The acceptance that we canāt go back forces us to accept and appreciate who we are now. Itās easy to forget how far weāve come and how much weāve grown; the ages we reflect on arenāt temporary versions of ourselves, but a big part of our personality now. Understanding who weāve become as life unfolds is the only way we can reconcile with time moving forward, before the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia slips in and our memories slowly dwindle into a faint feeling we carry rather than a moment we can recount.