a book of ordinary people

Back then we were all kids , not all of us were the same age though. But we were kids nevertheless....
It was me, my sister, him, his brother, his sister was too old to hang out with us, and our brother was too quiet young to....
We were still kids when we assumed we are old enough to leave, he was the first one of us. I was the second one and then one day his sister woke up and found herself all alone with her husband and kids...
He is sitting at the dinner table next to my dad and we are all talking... he was two years older than my sister and my sister was two years older than me and i was three years older than his brother..
He says that he has finally got the job of his dreams ... And yeah there is someone in his life and they are looking at the houses and yadi yadi yada....
Everybody is talking but me, i have nothing to say i suppose.. or maybe i just can't get my eyes off of him... not exactly him, but those white stands of hair on his head.. they are too many to be ignored.
Not long ago we were all kids.... and now nobody can ignore his white hairs....
Maybe I have a hard time accepting our aging process....
or i cant ignore the fact that unlike other people who grow into adults in their twenties, we became children in a strange land all over again and are still trying to figure out who we are...
I suppose the day that we got that stamp on our passports and bought our one way tickets ( mine was one way at least) to the land of opportunities; unknowingly we paid for it by giving up on growing into adults.
On top of it all what is so disturbing about his white hairs, is that he is only four years older than me. we are not that old...
I justify it by telling myself that he is just like his father, they grow white hairs sooner than the normal population and then i see that hard look in his eyes... He had the happiest eyes that a boy could have until the day that his father died unexpectedly and he couldn't make it to the funeral . He had a one way ticket too i suppose...
I wish he was a girl, so he would die his hair...
I have started using eye concealer, to conceal the wrinkles around my eyes. The boy in the make up store told me , they possibly cant be wrinkles I am too young for that, he called them dark circles and strongly advised against using the anti-wrinkle creams...
Everybody around the dinner table is talking about the good old days. He asks me if i still the energetic gal that i used to be and i barely smile... i gotta use up my energy for work and school...
I wonder if like all the boys around us he had a crush on my sister?
My mom asks about his brothers and sister and his mom?
Part of growing up is letting go and i donno if we can ever do that?
It has been days since I have seen those strands of white hair , and I am still disturbed by them...
I have a feeling that our generation is growing old without ever having the chance of growing up....