On the way down to my grandma's house today, driving along the all too familiar Garden State Parkway, sitting in the backseat for once, I was staring out the window, gazing at the clouds, thinking about what a nice picture it would make, if only I wasn't too lazy to pull my camera out.
The clouds were just the right amount of puffy, mixing white and gray, seeming to be at a standstill. I have this fascination with taking pictures of clouds because looking at them, it makes me imagine a world of possibilities. The sky seems endless, timeless. It just goes on forever, stretching across a land of opportunities and dreams for me to chase.
Then I return to reality, where I'm sitting in the backseat of the car, my parents in the front and my cousin next to me, and my brother in the third row. It's like a small home, where I can feel completely comfortable and at ease. It makes me think of late nights, driving home from wherever, and just watching the lights pass by the window, gradually easing into a slumber, feeling safe and protected, as long as my parents are up in the front, driving to our destination.
Sometimes I feel like I'm slowly losing that comforting feeling, the older I get. The older I get, the less we take family trips, the less time I spend at home, and the more time I spend doing things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. I wish things could remain easy forever, and I didn't ever have to grow up and be responsible for myself. I wish I could return to the days of childhood when the days seemed endless and going inside at the end of the night was the worst thing ever; when the ground was lava and going to Dunkin' Donuts on our own seemed like the coolest thing ever; when naptime was acceptable.
Oh, nostalgia. I yearn for those days more than ever now that I'm facing the years of my 20s. But for someone who wants a lot out of life, I need to spend less time looking back and more time racing forward. But I think it's okay for everyone, every once in a while, to remember, cherish, and wish for their childhood.