Sixteen is a big number. In more defined terms, it is the square of four, the product of two and eight, and most importantly, greater than 5, and uncountable on the 10 fingers I was born with. Five years old, and I was convinced a double digit age was the biggest feat in life. Ten years old, and everything felt closer, but still unattainable for the aims of little me, and I couldn’t wait to grow up. Sixteen lay remote, unimaginable, and an idealized age. Everything was supposed to be perfect at sixteen. My life sorted, my dreams unrestricted, and a path to my future lined with tacky gold. But now that 16 lies about a month away, being 5 again sounds sweeter than ever.
With t-minus 1 month and 20 days left, I’ve enjoyed more than my fair share of confrontational extra-early midlife crisis. I lay awake inundated with thoughts on everything. I despair over my lack of accomplishments and more importantly, regret. I regret slacking. Regret missed opportunities. And regret letting life slip by so quickly. It’s been the square of anxiety, the product of too many late nights and bad grades, greater than 5, and still uncountable on the ten fingers I was born with. I’m hastily swept into looking forward to the future, and as one thing approaches, I shift to take on the next big step in life. I’m on a treadmill, and the only way off, is tripping. To topple the mountainous stacks of burdens, college applications scorch the end of next year, and the next 5 to 10 years of our life, sealed and set. No turn arounds. No take backs. One more treadmill to run, and still only one way off. As desperate as I am to surrender school’s daily routine, I live appreciative that everyday at school is a day I take seeing my friends and having a structured life for granted. 15 years have already ghosted in the blink of an eye, and if I’m not careful, one more blink will turn me 50. I’m eager to experience life as an adult, attend college, but simultaneously, it remains my greatest fear. I bask in the knowledge that these experiences remain ahead, but once past, only distant threaten to memories remain. Unfortunately, there is no solution to my predicament, because none exist. Despite my fear that life will promptly pass me by too quickly, I have no desire to be immortal or extend my life past a reasonable length. I fear a cyclic life with too many experiences that each one becomes mundane. So I am stuck, despite running through life at an intolerable pace. But we will see. Maybe one day I’ll find a way to unplug the treadmill, or at least, slow it down.
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June 2020
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