It’s strange when you know you will never do certain things ever again. It feels like the purest form of progress, the one true sign that you’re changing. Other things are less discernible, not as clear. But writing things off? You’re different. You’re ready for something else. Great.
During the summer of 2004, I suddenly stopped wearing underwear. I’m not sure why, at seventeen, I decided to forego my usual pair of boxers but I did so everyday for three months. I wore cheap girl jeans that I purchased at Target and marveled at the way my body looked when nothing was coming between me and my Mossimo’s. When summer ended, I snapped back to reality and put the boxers back on. I will never not wear underwear ever again. Things get strange when you don’t protect your man parts.
When I was six years old, I believed in Jesus. I dragged my mom to church every sunday and made up visions i had to the priest. “I’m in a room and I see God at the other end. He wants me to come forward.” The priest delighted in these visions and would make me retell them to the parish. It was fun for me, a new hobby, just like taking voice lessons or learning the drums. I stopped believing in Jesus and the church when it stopped being fun, when I realized that people actually used the religion to justify their ugly behavior. I will never believe in what Christianity had to offer me ever again.
I will never wear the things I wore when I was 17 ever again. I will never don another pair of flared girl jeans for as long as I live. I will never purchase shirts that say “Sam’s Video Hut” for twenty dollars at a vintage store. I will never wear mismatched Puma shoes or dye my hair a color that isn’t brown. These are the fashion mistakes I vow to never repeat.
I will never pierce my nose again, even if it brings me closer aesthetically to Lenny Kravitz. I will never decide on a whim to pierce something on my body, especially if it’s in some dingy shop in Port Hueneme, California. I had a nose piercing for about four months during my senior year of high school until it fell out when I was drunk and managed to close up overnight. Now, every time I see a hot guy with a nose piercing, I get about 10,000 boners, but I’ve accepted that I can’t pull it off.
I will never see my parents as one-dimensional ever again. I know better now, know that they’re human and tried their best. This makes it hard to get mad at them now. I’m too sympathetic to their plights and don’t wanna stress them out because I know they’re getting old. The last thing they need to deal with is my boring complaints.
I will never have a “coke night” ever again. The last time I did that, I was twenty years old and decided to wear bright red skinny jeans with a grey deep V to a birthday party. Coke was my stylist that night and I haven’t forgiven it since. The drug reminds me of being young and going out of my way to make mistakes. Life has gotten harder since those days. Now I try to avoid mistakes rather than actively try to make them. Plus, the new stuff will apparently eat your face! Sick.
I will never drink and like whiskey ever again. It made me vomit on my 23rd birthday and I’ve been unable to look it in the face ever since. It’s a shame because it used to taste so great and warm me up. Now it’s a “never” type of situation.
I will never date someone like you, you, and you ever again. It didn’t fit. We tried so hard. We went on the relationship treadmill in hopes we could lose the metaphorical weight and be able to wear us again. But our efforts were fruitless. Each time we would take a stab at it, we would just lose our breath and burst a few buttons.
I will never regret the things I no longer do. It’s fun for me. It’s exciting to see myself move on because it so rarely happens. I’m a creature of habit, I hold on to things past their expiration date. So for me to outgrow things is no small feat. I want it to happen more often. I wish I let go of things more often. Never.