This morning in physics instead of paying attention to the lecture on forces and equilibrium like a good student, I wrote three pages and played pretend that that my science notebook was my diary. I wrote about second chances and secrets and things that weighed on my mind, trying to talk myself out of the seemingly purposeless unhappiness that was clouding my head. And because I'm sixteen and I can get away with not caring about consequences beyond the short term, I don't regret it.
When you're young, you can get away with stuff like that. You can get away with crying over dumb things and getting emotional over pop music and spending too much time worrying about homecoming dresses. You can get away with texting your friend seven times in a row before she can respond and going out to the parking lot at lunch to watch people attempting to drink a gallon of milk in an hour throw it all up. You can get away with executing dumb pranks to the amusement of your friends and writing long journal entries about everything and skipping the second half of the workout to just lie on the track and talk (or listen to people talk, if you're more like me).
You're allowed to do those sorts of things when you're young: dumb things, silly things, things fueled only by what you feel now without any regard to the future. I guess when you're grown up, you can still do some of it but there's not the camaraderie of teenagehood, not the excuse of, "oh, I'm still just a kid."
I just think there's something kind of nice about this weird stage in life. Everything is exaggerated; bad news is the apocalypse, good news is the happiest moment of your life. One could say it is both miserable and magical. Beauty through the pain and whatnot. Writing about it, though, I feel kind of strange, removed, like I'm looking back on this time of my life instead of living through it, like maybe I'm not supposed to have this sort of level of introspection yet since I don't have the hindsight. I don't know.
I mean, thank God we do grow up. I'm just not particularly in any hurry.
i know exactly how you feel; this is great.
ReplyDeleteThis is fantastic. But don't worry... when you do grow up, if you hang out with the right people, you can still be a kid. ;) xo
ReplyDeleteYou know what you can get away with at the age of 16? Sneaking out to Jack in the Box and stuffing toilet paper from the bathroom into your bag.
ReplyDeleteYou're a great writer, Kendall. It's true - as youth, we can do those things for the heck of it.
ReplyDeleteThis is fantastic. When you're fifteen, you can get away with painting your nails in class and sitting on the tables instead of the chairs and gossiping in what is basically a glorified cupboard. You can almost, but not quite, flirt with Dutch strangers and you can laugh over that later and then you can cry over everything when you're alone. It's good.
ReplyDelete