9.29.2014

eighteen

18 is a big year. it's been described as many things. there's an unspoken expectation of the age. the days of cigarette butts, and late nights, and moving out. the age of freedom, of rebellion, of adulthood. the day we grow up. or so we think at the ripe age of 8. ten years, and then we'll be there; and then everything would change. perhaps we tell ourselves things would get better, or things would finally shift from the eternal grove of normalcy into something more... exciting.

as if the change of a number could ever really change who a person is.

i once knew a friend whose parents practically forced her out the day she turned 18.  they did it "out of love". at least, that was the term they used, as they shut the door behind her. a clear end of the reality of everything she knew, of everything she'd come to call her own. 

birthdays have always been strange for me. we celebrate the years of life lived, and receive many happy wishes for the years to come. gifts are exchanged, candles are lit and extinguished, the phone rings, the facebook notifications explode in well wishes, and kind words.

and at the end of the day? everything's still the same in my eyes. i'm a day older than i was yesterday, but people look at me differently. what never changed is the way i look at myself. 

this morning, my parents took me out to breakfast. we sat in a little booth, and ate pancakes off a huge plate in the center of the table. three forks, two pancakes, one plate. the autumn sun created broken patterns on the table, with the view of the slowly transitioning maple and oak trees across the road from out the window. 

they asked me what i want. not for my birthday, but for life. my answer? "i don't really know." maybe that's not exactly true. i know some of what i want.

i want love. i want adventure, spontaneity, the thrill of the unknown. i want to sit up late and write poetry, and fiction, and wake up early to the smell of coffee and the sight of pale sunlight across my pillow. i want the wild laughter of late night insanity, the quiet moments when the only sounds are the beating of my wandering heart, and the wind in the trees.

i want music. all kinds. the pounding of the drums that you feel in your chest like your heartbeat, and the quiet, trembling waver of tenuously plucked strings. i want words that catch in my throat when i speak them; words that repeat in my head when i read them, words that cling to my heart when i ponder them. 

i don't know what i want tomorrow, or next week, or a year from now. i don't know where i'll be, who i'll be with, or what i'll be doing. and you know what? 

that's totally okay.

8 comments:

  1. i always love reading your writing. happy eighteenth.

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  2. Happy birthday! :) I know, I half-dread the question people always ask, "What are you majoring in?" In my dream world, I'd love to be a singer/voice-actor/farmer all in one, but in the real world, I don't really know what I'll be or be doing after college. Like you said, though, "It's totally okay." Everything will come out right in the end, thank God. :) Have a great birthday!

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  3. Ooh this is a good post, and very agreeable. Happy birthday!

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  4. happy birthday! there are so many possibilities and chances ahead of you. enjoy the ride

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  5. I loved this post, M. Loved it.

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  6. love, love, love this! you are inspiring. happy late 18th bday. ;)

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  7. I expected some sort of *boom* when I turned eighteen. Like all my life questions of what to do with my life would be laid down before me in a nice package with a pretty bow. Yeah, not the case. I'm nineteen now, almost twenty (okay, that felt reallly weird writing that out) and I still wrestle with the restlessness that I've had since I was 12 of "gahhh, what do I do???" I don't think we'll all be given the answer at a specific age. I think the answer comes slowly through people, circumstances, jobs, or that one fellow that you can't get off your mind. I think the answer is subtle and sometimes right in front of you. I think it just takes time and prayer and long solitary drives in the country when you cry for no reason but it just feels good to do so.
    As you can tell, I've really connected to this post. So true and your writing is so full of quiet emotion. I can almost hear the music that you write about. So eloquent. :)

    On another note, you asked me about my new dslr. It's a Canon EOS Rebel T5 :)
    Oh, and Happy Birthday!

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  8. Hey hey! My name is Han, and I have recently started blogging again! I love your blog and have followed for quite a while, and I wanted to share my little corner with you! http://h-anecdotes.blogspot.com/

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thanks for commenting, and sharing some love. ♥