Hello blog.
Something happened to me today.
Before dinner, I decided I'd wash off the crazy heat of today and had a shower. Nothing really out of the ordinary. I finished up, dried off and got dressed. Sounds normal, right?
Right.
But as I was towelling my hair, I glanced up to look at my mirror. (Yes, at it, not in it.)
And I saw what Rachel Q had written on it while she was at my place for my minuscule birthday celebration.
It said:
'HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY MANDA!! Enjoy it!'
She wrote it on the day itself, meaning that we are currently about a year and a half away from the time the marker touched the surface of the mirror.
It dawned upon me that in six months, I'm gonna turn eighteen.
I paused to think about it, and realised that the thought scared me more than I thought it would. Getting older is not the problem. Being eighteen, an adult, is not the problem.
It's the fact, that I remember being eight years old, looking up to the twelve year olds at church and thinking about how cool they were. Watching the twenty year olds and writing them off as ancient.
I'm currently in my late teens and I don't remember a significant TURNING point in which that happened. It was a gradual progression that I was completely unconscious of.
Time just moves.
It goes and goes and never stops.
Does that scare me?
Honestly, it does.
It's kind of terrifying. Things happen, and we just have to deal with them and live with the consequences. Everything that happens, everyone we meet and everything we do affects who we are and who we become.
It's a daunting thought, no?
I wanna think that my life has made a difference to someone. I wanna think that I affected someone in a positive way and that they'll always remember me for it.
Time will always move forward.
We can't do anything about it. Yes, I do say that with a slight tone of helplessness.
But it is a fact, and we have to come to grips with that.
I have to come to grips with that.
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