Intermission.

Back when I was younger, I often thought how cool it would be if I could just take a peek at my life in 15/20 years time. What would I see? Would I have changed much or not at all? Would I have a girlfriend, would I be married, would I have any kids?

Going forward 15/20 years in time, 16 year old me would be pretty fucking surprised if he would have a sneak peek at our life today.

Let’s say he would inhabit my body at this very moment: he’d see he was on his way to some place. Business or pleasure? He’d know its pleasure, the vibe doesn’t let you guess wrong.

He’d look over and see a woman. I say woman but she still keeps her girlish ways. She turns her face towards us. “Oh, shit, after all these years?!”, he would probably think. Well, kind of.

She has this olive shade kind of skin. Not a brunette but not really a pale skin either. She wears blond like a hand wears a glove: a tight fit. She smiles at me, at us. The phone in her hand seems a extension of her, that’s how much she keeps staring at it.

“What you listening to right now?” She asks. Present time-me would say the truth but 16 year old me is too embarrassed to say that, right now, there is a sort of pop-ish sound blasting in my earphones. “Deftones”, my current body tenant replies. Trying to be cool, are we?

“Woah, throwback bro!” She replies. My 16 year old self is taken aback. “Bro? Did she “bro-d” me just now?!”. That’s right, let that sink in.

My hands feel like a foreign object: were they always this big?, 16 year old me wonders. There is also a ring. “Married?” Yes, I’m married. Shock, I know.

He takes a peak at her hands: a few rings but none looks like a wedding ring. Yeah, dodged that bullet, buddy.

Teenage-me feels a bit disappointed by my wearing Levi’s and not Carhartt’s. “So tight!”. No, my young and baggy pants wearing self. Comfort and durability at this age.

I inadvertently take my hands to my face, as if Ive lost my sight and am trying to guess who I am. Weird, but I’ll let slide. My young self is perplexed. “No piercings?” He goes for the earlobes. “No earrings too?” Well, we outgrew that phase. “Damn it, i always thought I’d have my piercings forever.” That thought didn’t age well.

I feel my upper body. I flex my arm. “Am I a gym rat now?” We are getting back to it, but yes, we sort of are.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection on the window. “Shit, shit! Is my beard gray? Am I that old?” We’re older, sure. Count your blessings, you’re aging as you should. Maybe just cherish your hairline while you can.

I don’t know if 16 year old me would like me right now. I don’t remember what I envisioned for me then but all in all, we got it good.

Love and be loved, young self. And take your time.

Santiago Roque

Author: santiago roque

I can predict the future. If given the right topic. Often confusing, i am mostly me on emotional steroids.

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