The Stranger in the Photo Is Me Essay

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I didn’t want to leave. I knew I didn’t want to leave when I got the ticket. It was 10:00 pm, five hours until my flight. I knew I didn’t want to leave when I was lying on my bed waiting, listening to my favorite songs and starring non-stop at my phone. I knew I didn’t want to leave, but I was still leaving anyway. I still put on my sneakers. I still put all of my suitcases in the trunk and went straight to the airport. It was my first independent flight to a different country. I was flying to America. I was scared at that moment. I missed my old classmates. Looking at these snapshots really brings me back to the times when I was still in Vietnam. It seems as if I cannot recognize anyone in the photos. All of them are now strangers as well as myself. I remember the giggling of my silly friends, remember the clickety-clack sound of the roller coaster. I remember the precious moments we shared at the amusement park. Most of my friends are caught in the goofiness of sophomore year. However, they seem so changed now when I came back to Vietnam for the summer. They are all seniors now with tons of responsibilities to graduate from high school and get accepted into universities. They are growing up just like me. Somehow, I feel like the strangest of them all. I remember a photograph of me standing in front of my class doing the heart shape figure with my friend. We were so having a good time at that instant. My friend and I were smiling and hugging each other continuously. I cannot remember the occasion the picture was taken, but I know for sure a fact that I wish time could be suspended so I would go back to that moment again. In the photos, I pass from chubby to skinny, fortunately, end up being skinny for now hopefully. I, luckily, still have that black hair and black eyes that a typical Asian should have anyway. In other snapshot, I am dressed in my

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