Looking in

I had an interesting experience in my creative writing class tonight. Ah, creative writing. The perks of working towards one's English degree. Our weekly assignments involve putting together works (this week, a poem; next week, a short story; in the near future, non-fictional essays), and I was randomly put into a group with other classmates. Through random acts of conversation, I found out that I was the oldest person in the group (24). No biggie. What was a pseudo-biggie to me, however, was one particular nineteen-year old girl who reminded me oddly of myself when I was that age - talkative, green, and fixated on extraordinarily frivolous things. This was pretty much revealed to me when we were analyzing a descriptive poem on elements of heartbreak, when she blurted out: "Well, I've never felt that before, but I was transported to 'that place', so I think it was a very well-written piece." It was as cute as it was annoying as it was funny. I don't know if at nineteen I'd've said something to that magnitude, although I probably would have at eighteen. At eighteen, ignorance was bliss, but at nineteen I already had the privilege of being sufficiently broken, and would learn not to be so disappointed in friendships/relationships thereafter. Rest assured, I would rather be jaded, balanced, and know how to let go than feel torn every time something ends, like a poorly formed sentence fragment.

That said, it was just funny, and refreshing to acknowledge the space between 19 and 24. In part because of a really sheltered upbringing, I've slowly realized this as time has gone on. Tonight had a hand in cementing that - while I'm still struggling to find my sea legs - I'm such a different person than I was even three years ago, two years ago. Although work and school leaves me feeling out of place as an individual, I notice how more refined I am as it were, if not perfectly polished. I like myself a lot more than I used to, and wouldn't trade the progression with a younger person if you paid me.

I think that's it. I wonder what I'll realize when I'm fifty.