Eighteen

Today is my eighteenth birthday.

I have a job, a car and now eighteen years of memories.

I can go to all those doctor visits by myself, sign all the necessary paperwork.
I can move out into my house if I want to do so, and I can do it right now, (assuming money/school weren’t an issue, of course.)
I can register to vote for the president of my country, have my own opinion that may or may not minutely affect the polling system and, ultimately, the choice for who leads the country in which I live.
I can buy a lottery ticket.
I can smoke cigarettes and not be questioned.
I can buy porn.
I can go to jail.
I can stay out past midnight.
I can get married.

It’s a strange, dizzying feeling to realize that I am able right at this moment to do what I want to do, within reason. The world seems so much larger after knowing and evaluating the true weight of these things that I can do. Can, present tense. There is no future tense anymore.

My life as I know it has ended, descending into ashes as a new life ascends, only a meager ember at the moment. With prodding and room to breathe, it will erupt into vivacious flame, and my new life will sprint across the earth, leaving creation in its wake. My new life will be my forever remembered eruption into what can now be called adulthood.

This strange spiraling moment will not last forever, or even a few days, but it will take root in my soul and sprout a blossom of violet creation and inspiration. I am now obligated to make myself happy.

This is a milestone, as they say, and this stretch of mile will be unpredictable. However, I can predict that it will be one of the happiest couple of years of my life, simply because I refuse to ignore the importance of happiness and aesthetics anymore. This is my last year of required schooling, and I am determined to make it the best year possible, not only for myself, but all of those I choose to love and cherish. This year will be unforgettable. It’s time for us to breathe again.

This is it.