The pride of growing the first own radishes ever and of drying your very own lemon balm.
Talking about one friend’s One-Night-Stand and another friend’s marriage.
The insides shattered like a box of matches. Because of all the questions you cannot answer, including the ones about your goals and your longings and the purpose of everything.
Worshipping the right people at last and still adoring the wrong ones.
Finding the true love and losing it and finding it again with a whole bunch of new insecurities which you thought you’d lost at the age of 19.
Missing your mother for her control of everything, missing her like your childrens-bed and still not liking her and not asking her, on principle.
Too short skirts, too long nights.
Missing school, hating and loving the new job.
Drugs & cigarettes and the guilt of irresponsibility.
Being sad and tired.
Writing books and dreaming of becoming successful.
The knowledge that friendships change.
The knowledge which friends can be trusted.
Political correctness as a joke and as an understatement.
Being tall and small and growing all the time.