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Here's something I don't like to admit. When I remember that I'm sixteen years old the gravity of everything really comes crashing down on me. When I was in sixth grade I received the school email that had my graduation year after it, and I remember thinking it was going to be forever until then. Now forever is less than two years. I already regret all the opportunities I've missed in life, because I was too nervous, apathetic or lazy. I read the things I so joyously wrote here when I was fourteen and fifteen and feel completely detached from the carefree kid that I was (laugh it up). I think back to schoolyard memories from 2017 and realize that I've already lived another lifetime since then. I wonder how an eternity can feel like yesterday, two weeks ago, late June, last October, March of 2020. I wonder how many friends I'll still be speaking to in five years. I wonder what I'm going to do in college, entertain the impossibility of joining the French Foreign Legion, admit to myself that I'm sixteen years old and I'm scared as hell.
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