Memories (and you may all go and decide I'm a nerd now- I'm still a proud one.)

In these past days, two unrelated yet very related memories came back to me.

First one I remembered the other day (I actually think it was yesterday, but my perception of time is so very messed up lately, I can never know). I was FB texting the Firetruck (that annoying being- I can only picture his stupid perpetual smile, but everytime I talk to him he is crossed, or sarcastic, or sad, or an emo, or not happy in any other way. And he is too amazing for that shit)and at one point he said the following:
"[P]oor you, spending your time in an studyship you chose in order to find a job you love."

And it reminded me. it remimded me of my 20 year old "self" (who was barely a self at all), that miserable thing, being put to study English without even being asked about it. Of course I didn't say a thing, because, well, I do love what I am doing, but I remembered, I felt. I felt the urge to escape that life people were shaping for me without my consent, I remembered hating it and everybody so much.

That's my first memory.

My second memory arised after the community reunion this morning, or maybe two weeks ago. There exists this omnipresent talkative neighbour (she tends to be there when my mother's reserve is saving me some embarrasment, and likes to compensate), and my birthday is about to come, so of course she started relating her -very reshaped- memories of my childhood. And it brought my own back.
She was narrating how much I loved being cared for by her daughter and how happy I was at those times, and it made me picture myself being happy while I did that that made me happy.
I... developed writing systems, inventing their symbold, deciding what sounds were and were not represented (for they were writing systems for imagined languagues), and which ones were to be written in dygraphs.
I also read enciclopaedia entries and investigated the evolution of letters and their different shapes in the écritures of old times. I looked at them and enjoyed the fascination they made me feel.
I asked my mom to write things for me using greek letters so that I could decipher it.
I read Asterix comics in French to try and grasp some of the meaning.
I searched the internet for a glossary of Old Irish words (who wan't modenr languages when there is obsolete ones abound?) and memorised them.
I read an old Latin diccionary and copied down words that I found interesting.

I lived for them, for all the words in all the languages, for all the ways in which both changed, chifted, evolved, all this time.

I quote Christabel LaMotte now.
"Words have been all my life, all my life."