Eighteen? More Like Three.

And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past…
Nostalgic for childhood already? Me? Nahhhh

My mom started off my 18th birthday with her by kindly reminding me that she can now kick me out of the house without legal repercussions. Joyous. It’s weird to come to the realization that I’m now essentially a separate entity from my parents. There’s something simultaneously scary and freeing about having to sign paperwork in order for my mom to access any records on me. I can now legally watch porn, smoke cigarettes, buy lottery tickets, and in short, corrupt my life if we’re talking about things from a church perspective. Cool. 

In all, I had a fairly uneventful coming of age. I spent the night before at my boyfriends- before all you parents out there reading it gasp, we haven’t done anything and our parents trust us- and we watched Django, which was a surprisingly hilarious movie, and then meandered upstairs for the chiming of the bells. When the clock struck midnight, my boyfriend’s dad’s girlfriend wished me a happy birthday and kissed my cheek, she raised an eyebrow at me and chuckled “So is this now an illegal relationship?!” My boyfriend was unbelievably flustered. It was excellent.

After that, Brian brought me upstairs, dragging me by the hand up to his room. Entering the door, I immediately laid eyes on a box that’s bigger than I am. He sat confidently, arms crossed, and smirked as I opened what would soon become Rajah, my three-foot-long stuffed animal tiger. He is beautiful. And yes the name is from Aladdin. –I almost considered naming him Richard Parker, a nod to Life of Pi, until I decided I wanted a tiger that would protect me rather than run away at first site of land. He handed me a card which brought tears to my eyes… it listed all the memories from the past seven months and I was overcome with the most powerful feeling I’ve ever had for a person in my entire lifetime. It’s like all my love from the past seventeen years swelled into a tsunami of emotion, wiping out any coherent attempt at words, such that I simply kissed him. And that was enough to get my point across.

When I went home… well, not much of note really happened unless conversation over cake interests you.

But alas, I seem to have grown up. Who knew, right?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s