Who Changed? You Or Me?

As I were in bed trying to get to sleep (but failed to), a number of my suppressed childhood memories came to me.

One that stood out in particular was the day I was really mad at my dad and threw a tantrum. This occurred during one of the Saturdays when I had to return to school for special (bullshit, more like it) Creative Writing classes for the elite students during my Primary 5 school year. My dad had agreed to send me to school after his morning meeting. So he kissed me goodbye on the cheeks that morning before he left for his short meeting and told me he would send me to school right on time. But of course, he never did.

Insert note here: In case some of you were not aware, it was true that I used to be one of those anxious students. You know the type- getting to classes at least ten minutes ahead of the appointed time, laying out the stationary on the desk, eagerly awaiting for the Oh Grand Master's arrival and salivating for the preaching (latest math formulas, literature essays to analyze..) to come. Yes, I was one of those anal ones.

Anyway, on that morning 20 minutes before class, I was already dressed for school, hair up in a neat tight ponytail, shoes clean and spotless and my bag packed with all the necessities to combat creative writing, and standing at the side of the road where my dad was supposed to pick me up at. Ten minutes before my class was starting, no sign of my dad nor his car. I dialed his cell. He didn't pick up. Ten minutes later when the class has already begun, still no sign of him nor his car. Damn.

I was freaking out by then and was dialing his cell incessantly. He finally picked up and told me he was reaching soon and to wait for him. I breathed out a loud sigh of relief. I continued standing my guard at the side of the road, ignoring all the taxis that slowed down upon approaching me.

A freaking half an hour later, there I was, hyperventilating in anger by the side of the road. I was so angry that I ran back home and there, my poor mother attempted to curb my tears and rage.

My dad finally reached 45 minutes after my class had begun and my mother had to practically drag me to the car to get me to go to school. I did not want to show up to class an hour late, so I reasoned that I would report sick. But they refused to hear of it. They both belonged to the school of thought- better late than never.

I did showed up in class later with a few crumpled Kleenexes in my hands,wet eyes and a very red nose. To my mortification, the ang mo teacher did not reprimand me and instead sat me down to continue a very enjoyable lesson on visualizing your story characters.

From this point on, I'm not going to go into one of those expected soppy Mum, Dad. Thank you for this demonstration of sturdiness in character and from that day on, I did turned out to be one of those morally upright citizens and displayed perseverance regardless and going on to reap the goodness from all these. Because this is not really true. I did not turned out that way.

Instead, fast forward to the present day.

Today, I was supposed to meet a friend at 10am but changed it to 11am. I woke up at 10.30am,called my friend to change the lunch appointment to 1pm. At 1pm, I was still trying to decide what to wear. After several outfit changes and finally one deemed appropriate, I met my lunch date at 2.20pm.

So, the irony of our lives.

After the internal comparison of me when I was a child (super uptight, punctual twat) and the present me (Super laid back, unruffled, late twat), it occurred to me that anybody can change. For better or worse. A drastic or mild change. It all just takes time.

Give anybody ten years. Observe their habits and learn their beliefs and values. Plot out the gradual changes over a span of ten years, and you'll realise that all these gradual changes eventually add up. The person you once thought you knew so intimately has transform into someone else, or a stranger. Someone you used to smugly believe you know everything about had, to your horrified surprise and dismay, transformed into one of those people you could not stand.

Or is it just you who has changed instead?

Maybe, just maybe.

Ten years down the road or better yet, give it five years. One of those days, you'll look in the mirror and maybe you'll go who is that I see?