There’s a lot to be said about not being a teenager anymore. These past seven years were full of revolution. Each passing December 8th held promise; promise of more true love, and even more true heartbreak. Like a game of self-discovery Battleship, calling out ideals and personas, hoping that they hit.
Tomorrow, I turn twenty, and there’s a whole lot that comes with it. I’m about a quarter of my way through life, and it’s just now opening up to me. There’s a whole world out there, with different thing to learn from each, and never will the world be as simple as it was at sixteen. It’s terrible to not have the strong-headed assurance of a teenager; it leaves you vulnerable to being wrong. But that also means that each new day leaves you humble, having discovered another shard of truth in the world around you.
Turning twenty means I’m “in my twenties”, and that scared me. But that means that instead of dating and middle school dances being the biggest events in my life, it’s things like marriage and having children. You start out life wanting to grow old, and then spending the rest of it clutching to your youth, and I’m no different. Something that comforted me, though, is that one day all the crazy people that I’m surrounded by will be old people, and I can tell their grandkids about all the crazy shit they did when they were young. There will some of my friends who marry, some who I lose touch with, and some who will die before I get to see them grow old.
I’m happy I’m growing up. I can’t wait to be a dad, have a cool job, and travel the world. I can’t wait to see the new things that happen, all the new technology and changes it will bring to my life. It’ll be my turn to yell at the youth, and I’m going to love it.
Before I turn thirty, there’s a million things I want to do, but looking back on my teenage years, I know those things will change by the week, so I’m not going to commit to anything, besides this: I want to bring more love into the world.
Happy Birthday, Nick.