Streetlights at Night

We were in the car, speeding down the highway. We'd been at my aunt and uncle's house for dinner. For an hour after we'd polished off the Rocky Road, my aunt and I sat in a cramped hallway, petting the dog, talking about film schools that will be and weekend visits to Phoenix that probably won't. It was dark, and smoky, and the streetlights were cast in eerie halos. The city was alive in reds and blues and yellows. Everything felt very real. Everything felt very alive.

I've been thinking about how my time here is dwindling; only 22 months, 96 weeks, 672 days until I depart for college. 671. 670. And counting. My dreams are hyperbolic and bold, but I am almost more interested in the dreams of those around me. I want to know what they wish. I want to know what they will do, how they will touch the world, the journey they'll undertake to do so. Through the chaos of 2020, there remains a tangible sense of hope. The halls are sterile and quiet and ripe with potential. Teenage eyes mirror sleepless nights and romanticized tomorrows.

All around me, people are falling in and out of love. All around me, people are getting their first jobs, drivers' licenses, paychecks. First big failures. First kisses. Test scores are compared, laughter is hollow, there is talk of IT bands, cross country, and brain cells (the last two are especially popular). One day, we'll look back on this fondly. Vignetted. We'll tell our kids, "this is how it was. This is how we felt. This is who we are."

And they won't listen, like we don't listen. Maybe that's okay.

Some stories are meant to be shared and learned from; others are meant to be kept close. They are meant to stretch and dip with time, until we can't distinguish between what was and what we made it to be.

I just want everyone around me to know how excited I am for them. I don't quite know how to put it into words, but it feels like fishhooks in heart strings, and it smells like caramel, and very simple words. I'm excited to see their smile lines deepen. I'm excited to grow apart because that means we are growing.

I'm just very, very excited. And very, very congested. Only you can prevent wild fires.

Love,

Maya