nostalgia gone wild

A part of me still feels like the 18-year-old girl who had the world laid at her feet, so many opportunities to choose from. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have ended up in a good spot and have finally found myself in a place where I am extremely happy. I also don’t believe in regrets — I have lived my life. I am chock full of experiences – some good, a lot of bad.
I suppose when I was 18, and I was granted the full liberty to go and do whatever I wanted, the overwhelming urge to go-go-go became a visceral need. Luckily, I was young, and surrounded by other young people growing up in a town with little entertainment to offer.
Pressure was mounting because of senior year, and the pinnacle of my life’s work – getting into a good college and making my family proud – was finally on the horizon. Never in my life did I think that I would start shrinking away from the challenge.
We were climbing in my two-door cavalier ten people at a time to go on all-night adventures, fueled by crappy Denny’s coffee and cigarettes. Hiking trips in the bright rays of the sunrise, down by the river front or up under the bridge to overlook the highway. Only wearing light hoodies, worn down moccasin shoes and our hair too disheveled for our own good – because at the time, that was what looked good, you know.
We were having too much fun running amuck to do any real damage, but there wasn’t much focus on my future or concern about anything past the night ahead. And while that worked for the time being, when it finally came time to pick a college, I used my lame relationship that would only last about a month longer as an excuse to pick a college close to the area. I even tried insisting on living at home during this time.
Lucky for me, my mom pushed me out of my comfort zone and even though I ended up at a nearby college, I did end up living in the dormitory there. It was my first college experience, but it was mine.
I know that the people in my life who maybe didn’t understand those late-night adventures with my friends during those adolescent years saw this time as “the turning point” for me. This is when I turned from the girl who barreled straight-ahead towards her future with no fear to someone who proceeded with caution, and clung to the familiar.
My dream was to always be a writer, and while I was out there living my life, and I was still writing, some might say that I wasn’t as focused as I needed to be. Some could argue that these experiences helped form me into a more well-rounded person. Experiences can help fill in some gaps, and move a person forward.
This was a time where everything was exciting to me. I started off every day feeling fabulous. I had a couple good friends who would ride-along with me, encouraging my whirlwind ideas and enjoying the late nights, heavy eyes and couch surfing.
When my high school graduation came and went, so did any sense of responsibility. Starting the night of my graduation, drinking copious amounts of liquor became my famous past time. I had made some new friends who would have everyone over to drink at their apartment regularly. This began a whole new phase for me, and if the people in my life thought I had hit a turning point before….they hadn’t seen anything yet.

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