Is it just me, or was life... happier when we were younger?
I'm the youngest of four siblings. (The rest of them are boys, I might add.)
I was always the one to find things out the last, the one who got the news by eavesdropping on conversations, or when the news which were being delivered were old and not potentially harmful. This has always angered me, alot. Often, it has made me feel looked down upon, considered immature and most of all; it was so freaking unfair.
As I leaf through an old photalbum of ours, I see faces I haven't seen in years. Friends, realtives, co-workers and family who got dropped somewhere along the line. Some of them I know all too well what happened, why we don't see each other anymore and why we pretend not to notice each other on the streets. Yet, others just quietly disappeared. Slipped away. Lost contact.
Is there a story behind those faces too? A story I was to young to be told? Did something happen that I didn't need to know?
Is it just me, or are people in general loosing more friends than they are gaining?