Will We Ever Feel As Grown Up As We Did When We Were 16?

I spent last night with a childhood friend. She lives 15 minutes outside of our small hometown. The old, familiar road was fogged in. As I drove, I thought about how the now quick trek up to her house felt like an eternity when we were kids. When I walked into her house, her family was eating dinner. Aside from a slight weathering on each of our faces, it may as well have been 10 years ago. As we skipped downstairs to the den, scents of old wood and ocean air engulfed me in distant memories.

We sprawled out around her childhood bedroom and I mentioned my favorite picture of myself from high school was taken against the corner window. She remembered. The one where I was holding a red solo cup. I swear I could feel the four walls laughing as we recounted the secrets they held.

“But I don’t feel any older,” I said, “We might as well still be teenagers.”

With a laugh she replied, “Yeah, I’m still waiting to turn 16.”

We spent our youth waiting to be older, somehow believing that an understanding of life accompanies the legal ability to drive or drink. Somehow believing time would sift through us leaving only our most serendipitous parts behind. But time also left questions and conjectures. Time left yearnings for moments that had slipped out of our hands.

I spent last night with a childhood friend. We laughed at our transgressions the same way we did when we were 16. We questioned our decisions the same way we did when we were 16. We cried about things we can’t seem to figure out the same way we did when we were 16. We wondered when we would feel as grown up as we did when we were 16.