I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I sit here at 22 years old and it feels like I don’t know anything – how life works, how we grow old, how we grow up. How this home that I’m sitting in is the one I was raised in at 5 years old. How the house I went to last night, drank in, and slept over at with all of my high school friends, sits outside of the elementary school where I once stood – little, young, confused.

I don’t know how I still feel little, young, and confused. How at 22 years old we sit, we stand, we love, we sigh, and pretend to be adults.

One of my best friends is getting married tomorrow. One of my best friends is getting married tomorrow.

Maybe if I say it three times it’ll feel more real. Maybe I don’t want it to feel more real.

I remember meeting him in high school, then growing close, making spam musubi together at my house, driving in one of our best friend’s trucks around town, blasting music, singing, dancing. The truck was red. Time stood still.

But I guess time is always moving, we just can’t see it. We can’t perceive the rate at which our moments turn into memories. Homes into past times. Friends into adults.

I guess I just feel really young. And the juxtaposition between youth and this new, “real”, “adult” life is a little overwhelming. Weddings, jobs, cities, the simple demeanor by which I now do things for my parents. Handle myself independently. No longer dreaming but pursuing. It’s all quite strange.

The fact that we graduated college. The fact that the moments we share with our friends are now determined by schedules. The fact that the chapters in our lives that we write have ends, we’ve reached them, and the beginning of new ones are at our fingertips.

It’s not because I feel like I’m losing anything. It’s because I know we are going to gain so much. So much. But I cannot contemplate how.

New friends. New homes. A raise in our company. A career. A family. How to pay the bills. How to save for retirement.

A month ago I couldn’t imagine myself walking across the stage for graduation. I did it. I lived four years at my university, now that’s done.

Now I can’t imagine where I’ll be, wherever I end up. Working. Living. Marrying? Family?

I guess we don’t need to think about these things before they happen. That’s not really living.

I don’t know.

Maybe no one knows.

No one knows but they trust in it, in whatever it is that they don’t know.

They go for it, take a leap, laugh at it, smile because of it, cry because of it, collapse in frustration, walk in bewilderment. Get back up and dance. Yell. Create joy.

That’s living.


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Moments made of people and places, brilliant and ordinary. ↹ Planet Earth, Milky Way

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