young forever

i opened my eyes to a ceiling fan on high. head pounding, i slowly crept to the bathroom. through squinting eyes, i look in the mirror. ambered, dark curls fell around my face and into that of the citronaut on my shirt; the bright blue of my eyes matching his outline. even in the mess of awaking, i noted how different i looked. it almost caught me off guard

hair darker than i ever thought, curls as loose as i now find myself to be. a body i built, rather than found myself with. i thought back to the highlighted version of myself of years’ past. hair so lightened that when the sun hit some said blonde. a body robbed by hatred for itself. i don’t allow myself to dwell too much more over the thought and turn around to go back to bed.

glitter on the floor.

shoes we’ll carry.

cans and cups we’d be cleaning up that day.

just like in taylor swift’s “new year’s day,” i thought to myself.

we went our ways for the first day of the year, one coming along with me to visit my family at the river cabin. an afternoon of floating and kayaking. only a few near brushes with death (via an alligator one time, a stick out of the water another, and another stick sticking out of the water another time). as we reached the dock, we swam about. when the time had come, we went back inside.

i curled the same dark hair, undoing the tiny curls of the ichetucknee’s water.

put makeup around the same bright blue eyes.

a dress over the body of mine.

and i left.

without a second thought.

i drove where i was supposed to go, sat where i was supposed to be. talked to old friends, made new. people walked past me, still in a daze of being where i am to be.

but then

there she was.

and my whole world shattered.

an orb of eggshell white moved towards me, towards the group of people standing,

right in the middle.

i watched her, as tears began pouring from my eyes.

married.

one of my dearest friends, my oldest friend. was getting married.

married.

we’re old enough for that? 

of course we are. people all over town are married at our age.

all over the country,

even the world.

even my parents were married with two kids and a house built to their specifications at my age.

but in the moment,

in that Specific moment,

i was simply

in awe.

of her. how beautiful she looked.

of the moment. how it will be among the most memorable of her entire life.

of them. they were getting married.

of us.

we were all there to see it. from the baby crying in the back to her grandmother sitting in the very front row.

as i found myself back in my car, windows down with the wind rushing through my hair, i listened to a repeating track. the beats and the voices of jay-z and mr. hudson’s looped over each other as i looked up to the sky. under the oceaning moon and stars, my mind began reeling

and it never stopped.

i simply couldn’t find the words, but as i approach the anniversary of my very first blog, my magnum opus (valentine’s day), they come flooding.

so what fish came of the pole of thought? baited by that shining wedding of twilight.

a feeling.

it’s listening to “young forever” by jay-z.

the lyrics of “it doesn’t matter if i’m not enough for the future or the things to come, because i’m young and in love”

the casual carefreeness of “young, wild and free”

it’s being young.

within the past few months i have befriended coworkers a decade(-s) of my senior. as i came in on mondays and shared with them stories of my weekends in ditches, i found them in stitches. 

but

it always ended the same way

a fading of laughter into a sigh.

“oh, to be 21 again” one of them say.

they each look past me and nod in silent agreement with small smiles on their faces. i’d like to think as they look past me, they see their past. flashes without words play across the desks and cabinets.

sometimes, if i’m lucky, i get to hear stories of their endeavors at my age after their moments of reflection.

the things they went through.

the pieces of their forever they found.

it was here i felt closest to them, hearing parts of their life i couldnt fathom existing

it left me in awe,

in wonder.

we all walk around with lifetimes people don’t know about: the people now, not knowing of then. people then, not knowing of now.

one day following one of these monday conversations, i started thinking about the people i have known. wondering how they are. what they see. things they think. as the melody of yebba’s heartbreak flowed around me, it hit me

the wonder.

the awe.

the freedom.

that’s what it is.

that is what defines the youth.

in church, they say you must maintain a childlike faith. questioning, but only through whys and wonder. the ENTIRE earth flooding? but Why the entire earth? all of the animals on ONE boat? but Why did he let snakes? he came BACK TO LIFE?? he knows who i am?? he loves ME?? But Why?

it’s when you grow up and begin asking questions of how that you find your true emergence into adulthood. the fairytales you once held so close now appear to be out of reach.

all children believe in fairytales.

can you maintain it?

not only are we fed these magical stories of religion, but it extends into among the most fundamental of humanness- relationships.

as kids, me and my friends would play house.

a mom, a dad, kids, maybe a dog or cat.

we’d celebrate weddings and birthdays. have fancy dinners. go to work, answer phone calls. clean the house. all the really adult things we couldn’t wait for one day.

days of playing house turned into sitting in the house watching four weddings and say yes to the dress with my bestest friends.

it would inspire conversations about the dresses WE were going to wear.

“she is out of her mind! that cut just isn’t pretty!” “a PINK dress????” “i don’t know, i kind of like it.” “my dress is going to be poofy like a princess!” “well miiiine is going to be tight like a mermaid… i love mermaids. did you know pirates thought manatees were mermaids??”

the men we’d marry.

they were going to let us choose if we stayed at home or went to work. they’d buy us flowers. help us cook dinner. plan the most romantic dates. play catch with our kids.

they’d simply do anything for us.

just like in the disney movies. or (just like, in my childhood favorite,) shrek.

then

we got to middle school and found ourselves in the world of nicholas sparks.

the books, we read them all.

the movies, watched through teary eyes.

we watched other movies too.

all about love, though.

rom-coms and romantic dramas of the 2000s-2010s, we probably saw every one of them. sydney white and the seven dorks, how to lose a guy in 10 days, endless love, the princess bride, and on and on and on.

but our favorite, my favorite.

the notebook.

i thought that was the epitome of love. i wondered if my love would be like that. so much, such deeply rooted pieces of each other that they simply couldn’t live without each other. not in a tragic way, like romeo & juliet. but naturally.

it just happened that way.

i got into high school and solidified a Plan. detailed in a couple other blogs (valentine’s day and the scribble), it had me on the path towards end game as soon as i emerged into adulthood.

i had brushes with pessimism of love, don’t get me wrong.

but i loved it.

i loved love.

my favorite passage from the bible was 1 corinthians 13. i wasn’t sure who i was going to marry, but in my mind at that time, whoever it was had to be okay with that being read at our wedding- no matter how cheesy it seemed. my enjoyment reading evolved into that of john green, movies drifted into the marvel universe, but i clung to the values noah and ally instilled in me. and i had love, i was in love. at least, i thought.

and that’s all that mattered.

and then i graduated high school.

and everything changed.

i turned 18 and despised love. nothing short of bitter to every couple i saw.

because

i knew.

i found out what love really was. what it felt like.

at that time, how much it hurt.

i knew how much love hurt. how much relationships hurt.

and for the first couple years, i kept learning. over and over.

up until the beginning of 2021 did i have my epiphany that inspired it all. why i even decided to start a blog, why you’re even able to read this now. of course, i won’t repeat to you words i’ve already said. but it changed.

i took the dreams of childhood and reality of adulthood hand in hand. loving isnt easy, but it shouldn’t hurt. it’s bliss with grounding. every contradiction seeming to work together in the most beautiful balance.

i realized how much i deserved and i wasn’t willing to settle for, or tolerate, anything less.

i realized how i didn’t even need a romantic relationship; to be happy with myself, to experience pleasure. to live a fulfilled life. it didn’t require a romantic relationship,

it Doesn’t.

and damned if i didn’t stick to it. coming to terms with who i am, what i like, leaving behind whom i needed, using my ability of words to defend myself, learning the state of acquaintance without emotional investment, even throwing a harmonica at a man’s truck once upon a summer’s afternoon.

we move in and out of the galaxies of each other’s lives (as discussed in strangers). people come and go.

you have to let them.

because who’s for you will always be.

and when they leave,

if it’s meant,

they’ll be back. 

and keep coming, circling back to you

until

you both get it right.

full circle.

through the power of gravity or a cosmic anomaly.

those that aren’t will remain as twinkling memories, pieces of who you are as a galaxy.

i realized the same thing about non-romantic relationships. those same friends i’d play with, the ones i’d watch those shows with- they were going to be my very best friends for the rest of my life.

we were going to grow old together, live right next door to each other.

but

we lost touch.

we had falling outs.

and now, we find ourselves at a distance.

then and now.

love from afar or disliking into forgetting.

you see, in the now.

when you enter adulthood, you begin experiencing life.

you’re no longer sheltered from the harsh realities of “the real world.”

you learn finances, you learn how hard relationships are with others, with yourself.

everything hits you all at once, knocking the wind of blissful wonder right out of you.

you no longer wonder what things are going to be like. you see them as they are.

and oftentimes, it’s ugly. it’s painful. but then- you find that one remainder of youth. the last switch on the breaker.

freedom.

in the early years of adulthood, you find that you have never had so much freedom with so little responsibility. in high school, most get their first taste of it. or, if you’re like me, you didn’t find out people did half the things they did in high school until you get to college and hear all of the stories.

so even though i didn’t really experience it, i like to base my idea off those presented in “young, wild, and free.” or, one of my now dear friends i went to high school with, telling me about a time she hid in the bushes at a party from the cops our junior year, right next door to where we were in that moment.

but college, or those first few years of adulthood.

that’s when it is the most raging of freedoms.

late night, early mornings, experimenting, partying, pulling all nighters.

you’re free to do whatever you want to do. be whoever you want to be. be with who you want to be. throw an f you to every expectation you grew out of.

singlehandedly the Best time to make the poorest decisions.

because you’re learning.

learning how to navigate through this life.

as you get older, people expect the navigation to be done. the map charted, your island of the future discovered.

and they ask you questions.

how’s work?

what are your career plans beyond this?

don’t you think it’s time to put yourself out there?

so when are you settling down?

not because they’re curious about you; who you are, what you want.

because they want to know where you fit within expectation.

the reality of expectation shackles us, locking us away from the freedom of youth.

so we go looking for it.

things that make us feel free. which admittedly, in turn, can become a prison of itself.

there’s a certain grace in aging, in getting old. and truly,

i’m excited for it.

the wrinkles, sunspots, every single gray hair. each telling their part of my life, my story, where ive been and- even- where i’m going.

i spent so long wanting to grow up, become an adult. and now that i’ve been in the beginning for a few years- i want to enjoy it.

i want to experience every ounce of my youth.

you can spend the rest of your life saying no.

it’s going out on saturday nights with your dearest friends.

it’s motion-blurry iphone pictures,

the flash of a 35 mm disposable camera

to document every second.

it’s working out at 4 o clock in the morning or 10 o clock at night.

it’s going on a drive with the windows down and music blaring.

it’s picking up a new hobby.

it’s driving 3 hours after work to spend a weekend with college friends.

walking around with a soundtrack playing everywhere you go.

risk-taking in the name of calculated recklessness.

to me, youth is accompanied with this certain lust for life (specifically in the way of which the weeknd and lana del rey describe it in “lust for life”).

you have your Whole life ahead of you.

so much time to fail.

succeed.

love.

hate.

grow.

curate peace.

find you.

so maintain the wonder, maintain the freedom, maintain your youth.

dylan thomas wrote a poem in 1947 that captures my thoughts in a way i never could. no one truly knows the inspiration, some say his father.

but i think

it was that of the human condition.

this poem was used in the 2014 movie, interstellar. now, i (and likely everyone whom has seen it) could write an entire novel on this movie. the imagery. the sound. the soundtracks. what it means to me.

however,

the poem.

the first stanza.

the most known.

the most poignant.

“Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

youth is a raging light.

let it burn.

rage on within your youth.