Saturday, October 29, 2011

"In childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking out. In memories of childhood, we press our nose to the pane, looking in." --Robert Brault

Everyone can attest to being a child, a teen and wishing you were older. Wishing you could drive, wishing you could live on your own. And then, the time comes when you can do all of that and more, and you suddenly realize it's not what you thought it'd be. Or maybe it is. But regardless, you are left with the realization that the grown up life you always dreamt of and looked forward to is here, and you're suddenly looking back on the past wondering where it all went.

I went to Fright Fest last night with the most amazing friends who put up with my intense anxiety ("Why is there traffic?! We have to get there now!") and let my inner 8 year old come out once we got inside the park. There was definitely skipping. I hadn't been to this amusement park since I lived ten minutes away from it fifteen years ago. To say it was strange to be back would be an understatement. To say it was strange to be back AND drinking a beer would be an incredible understatement.

I promptly beelined for the rollercoaster in the back, the one I affectionately remember riding three times in a row and thinking the drop never ended, and hopped up and down until we loaded into the seats. My excitement was palpable and I felt like a kid again. But then the ride ended, so much faster than I remember, and I couldn't help wonder if I made a mistake going back. It wasn't the same. I wasn't eight and my dad wasn't sitting next to me.

I hope I'm still allowed to be in this transition phase. I am loving living on my own, making the dinner I want and being the sole provider for my darling pup. But, the fact that Christmas this year will be spent in a brand new state sans a family member and her family won't stop blowing my mind. The fact that my time with family and friends outside of this state is dependent on how many vacation and personal days I have left is crazy.

They always told us when we were kids that it goes so fast. All I could ever say to that is, "Fast?! You call this fast?!"

Yes Kaitlyn, that was fast.


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