I remember sitting in a dim-lit room-told by an aged man that I was going to get glasses.
I remember my grandma and I standing on the Golden Gate Bridge, hand in hand, hair blowing in the wind, as we caught a glimpse of the sun sinks in the horizon.
I remember saying goodbye as I watched my class- one-by-one disappear into the myriad of cars, knowing it would never be the same again.
I remember holding my brother at the hospital when he was born, thinking that nothing could’ve been so little and perfect.
I remember tire sledding down a hill in Big Bear, crashing into a little boy when I got to the bottom.
I remember leaving a Linkin Park concert, horrified at the sounds I had heard and hearing a ringing sound in my ear for a week after that.
I remember playing cricket in a monsoon with my cousins in India with rain up to a fifth of my leg.
I remember hiking to the top of Angels Landing, in Zion National Park, feeling proud as I viewed the shimmering valley beneath.
I remember running down a dusty platform at full speed after a moving TrenItalia train in Rome, with our bags flying in the air-literally.
I remember feeling excited when I got my first scooter-it was silver with red handles that had streams of colored tissue.
I remember the time when I ate so much food at Souplantation I couldn’t move myself towards the exit door without feeling sick.
I remember walking down the sidewalks of New York City, steams rising from the holes underneath me as I glanced up at the blue sky.