Where are the pleasant disruptions?

The ground shaking thumping of footsteps upstairs

The harsh noise of fighting cats

The rhythmic knocking on the door daily

The melody of disturbances that remind me that I’m not alone

Where are they?

 

Where is the petite living space?

The tight walls

The lack of privacy

The ceiling dangling inches above me

The comfort of knowing exactly where everything is

Where is it?

 

What happened to the irresponsibility?

The absence of resourceful knowledge

The mind more empty than my backpack

The short attention span

The privilege of immaturity that substituted responsibility

What happened to it?

 

Why did I leave my bothersome companions?

The ones who barged into my home like it was theirs

The ones who would beg to borrow my bike

The ones who always made me be “it” during tag

The ones who meticulously shaped the best eight years of my life

Why did I?

 

Why is everything so new?

The tranquillity of silence

The liberty brought by responsibility

The welcoming kindness of new friends

The feeling of craving the way things used to be

Why is it?