The Writing

Future. Fast approaching, just like everything else in life. It seems that as i get older, my gauge of time seems to portray the passing of years too quickly. I am almost 16 now and fearing where I'll be in three years. Time has no limits, no barriers, no one to hold back its pace; it seems to past by quickly when we need it most, and stop when we anxiously await its passing.

Years go by as if seconds have past, and we are left wondering where it all went. We remember when high school seemed far off and college wasn't even in the question. And now we're frantically trying to make the most of our time while our final years as minors is quickly passing by, with no one able to stop it.

Three Years. and i will be gone from my family, visiting a few times a year on holiday. Three years. and i will be beginning my own journey into the real world and exploiting my own independence. Three Years. and my friends and i will go our separate ways, not knowing how distance will test our friendship. Three years. and no one to slow it down.

Fear. of growing up. of being my own person. of having no one to guide me. Leaving my parents, the very people who raised me, to become a reflection of them myself? It seemed far off as a child, but now its nearing, and though time has passed, and i have grown, i still feel like a child. It is out of my hands. Anxiety grows with no borders, no limits, and i am left to ponder its consequences and question my own maturity and independence.

Separate ways. Diverging friends and people. It seems too hard to handle. To know that you may never see that person again. To know that, you are leaving for a good school while your friend is going to Iraq. To know that there are people that you had so much to say to, and never opened your mouth to say anything.

Three Years. will come and go, and by then i will have forgotten my fears. By then i will have forgotten my worries and by then i will fear that future. I will grow to accommodate the losses that will occur, and i will do what must be done. Maturity will find its roots in my limbs and grow to encompass my mind.

"If not now, then when? If not here, then where?"...If not you and I, then who?

Time.
gone