You think about the late nights when you binge watched Scandal and turned up at school with panda eyes and the wrong books. The days when you felt like you really had your shit together: sufficient sleep, a morning run, a green smoothie.
You think about the sleepy, cuddly moments, the blissfully, euphoric ones, the times when the world closed in on you. New experiences are a total given...this is adolescence, right? Sometimes it's shiny and new, often it's just a slap in the face. I think they call that character building.
You think about Frank Ocean and sun in your eyes. Wes Anderson and that green jacket. Too many lists, French films, frustration and an ever twitching desire to grow up, move out and prance around the world wearing a leather jacket and a blind sense of optimism.
You realise how little you know about the world, how much privilege you live in, the things you have learnt and the many more things you have to learn. The sheer mass of everything that sucks, everything you don't understand is as frustrating as it is blinding.
The list of things to do is still long, you still have to urge to grow up, you're still figuring it out.