When I graduated from high school, I had a conversation with my uncle about time, and the meaning of growing up. "From here on out," he told me, "each year is going to go faster than the one before it." Because I was only 18 and every summer I had ever experienced stretched on for what felt like a delicious eternity, I And it turns out that he is right.
Because I was only eighteen and every summer I had ever experienced stretched on for what felt like a delicious eternity, I figured it was one of those pieces of wisdom that either didn't apply to my life or would take some years to unfold.
It's creeping on two decades since he gave me that advice, and it turns out that he's right.
I'm not wearing black here in a solemn attempt to drive that point home. Mostly, I just like how the dots on the sheer fabric look against my fair skin. I'm also not going to ruin this post by adding on some faux-relevatory comments about WHAT THIS ALL MEANS AS IT APPLIES TO EVERYONE ELSE'S LIVES.
Live it up while you can. We only get 31,536,000 seconds per year to enjoy, and by some unexplained force of adult life, they just keep getting shorter.
Thanks for reading!