how i accidentally started mourning the life i'm still living.

why am i already missing this version of my life?

i was in my room deleting things from my phone to free up some storage.

then i realized i had way too many 15+ minute voice memos. i am a songwriter, so the voice memos app is probably one of my most-used apps, alongside the notes app. (but the recordings i make are usually not that long).

i randomly played one of them. it was a conversation my mom and i had in the car 2 months ago. i didn’t remember recording that, so i listened all the way through with a smile on my face, grateful that i’d captured what seemed like an ordinary moment.

when it ended, i caught myself thinking… why did i even record that?

i kept playing the rest of the recordings. they were all conversations that most people would call “meaningless”. small talks with my family, my friends, recordings from university classes.

i’m trying to preserve anything that makes me happy. anything that makes me feel close to the people i love. the routines that shape me into who i am. just in case i forget them—or lose the privilege of sharing those moments with the people i love most.

that’s when i remembered exactly why i’d started recording all those conversations. i think i’ve spent years grieving things that aren’t meant to be grieved yet.

i’m 20 years old. just another girl from South America (proudly). a singer/songwriter/musician chasing the biggest version of her dreams. just another tiny human on Earth trying to figure life out.

i’m way too young (i know). i have so much left to live. so WHY am i already grieving this version of my life? why am i spending time with people i love while my brain whispers: “oh, you should record this, so nothing escapes from your memory” or: “record this, just in case one day they’re gone and you miss the sound of their voice”?

i always blamed anxiety. maybe that’s part of the reason. but i don’t think that’s IT.

- anticipatory nostalgia.

i try to trace it back. to figure out when this all started.

as a kid, my family did everything they could to raise a happy little girl. my mom, especially, created entire universes where my creativity could just be. nothing seemed impossible for me at that age. that feeling only started when i grew up.

as a teenager, life forced me to stop caring so much about what people thought of me. one day everything at school felt normal. the next day it wasn’t.

now, as a 20 year old, there’s a feeling i can’t seem to shake. life is going on TOO fast.

i look at old pictures of myself and, instead of remembering the good times i had as a kid, i suddenly feel a deep sinking feeling that comes from thinking: “nothing will ever be the same”. someday, the lightbulb in our kitchen will be replaced, and somehow that makes me feel like the kitchen i know now won't be the same anymore. soon, my friends from university will stop saying “see you tomorrow” because we’ll graduate and slowly build separate lives.

even when i think about who i was a year ago, it feels like someone else’s life. it’s changed SO much.

when i was little, i couldn’t wait to turn 18. then, at 18, i was anticipating the moment i turned 21. now there are 168 days left until my 21st BIRTHDAY!!!!

and that’s how life just keeps going. without fear. without hesitations. the clock never stops ticking. it just keeps moving. and i feel like i’m running out of time to finally “become” someone i’m not. yet.

i catch myself wishing parties lasted longer. that conversations never had to end. concerts, semesters, birthdays, whole chapters of life, could somehow stay exactly as they are right now.

but when do i start living those moments instead of “getting ready” to miss them? who am i when i stop caring about time? what will be left once everyone has gone home? what am i without the people i love? and where did the memory from that random Saturday night, eating pizza with my family three years ago, go to?

that’s where my mind goes whenever i’m having a good time.

so, for the people i love, i’ll start looking up at the sky a little more. i’ll start being fully present in conversations instead of assuming they will always be preserved in a voice memo, a photo or my notes app. because OMG. what if someday everything gets deleted, and i realize i was too busy trying to “save the moment” that i forgot to BE IN IT? (i trusted my phone more than my memory?????? oh no.)

i won’t pretend like i have an answer to solve this. i’m writing this as a way to let it all out. although, maybe this is another attempt to preserve something before it’s gone. am i trying to capture these thoughts too in case i “forget”?

maybe memories aren’t something we can manufacture. maybe they just choose us.

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thank you for reading!! it’s my first time posting here and it felt like writing in my diary. there’s no need for immediate answers.

i don’t think i’m the only one who feels this way, that’s why i wanted to post it!

if you relate to this, my music explores many of these thoughts too. you can find me on every music platform as “Anamilé”.

i’ve been releasing new music this year and i’d love for you to listen.

thanks again, a thousand times.

☆