You know that point in life where you start to feel old?
Not because of the number you associate with, not because of people surrounding you are getting married, and not because you feel old because you’re nearing college graduation. The kind of aging where people you knew growing up in school, because of work, or anything of the sort start dying. You always hear about or see people mourning because people they grew up with are gone and you think that it’ll never happen to you…
until it does.
It all began in my last year of high school/community college. A girl in my microbiology class sat almost directly across from me each day. One class period my teacher announces to the class that Rachel no longer would be joining us. Most thought because the rigorous curriculum was too challenging, no one thought that she would fall asleep driving and wrap her car around a tree.
Another girl that worked at a local restaurant I always go to, and have mutual friends with, Amie, died because of a brain aneurysm suddenly while working. Leaving her family, friends, and boyfriend wondering why.
Then a girl that I grew up with (2nd grade to 8th) committed suicide, along with her boyfriend. She had her struggles, much like everyone else in this world, but no one thought suicide was something she was capable of, something she wanted.
Most recently, I found out that someone I used to work with, Tyler, died in a deadly car crash.
I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m tired of not living my life to the fullest because of thinking there’s “always more time”. I’m tired of knowing people and watching them pass suddenly, unexpectedly.
I’m tired of getting this kind of old.