20

Gone is the time, a second ago now lost in the past forever locked away, a place forever unchanged but nevertheless any less powerful. "Time moves all too fast," a cliche repeated all too much. Time is a concept you start to think about when you start wanting to be younger and not older. Time catches you in the highs of life always wanting more and lost in the lows, realizing they have no place but to go. That vacation you wanted to last a couple days longer, that car ride, that sleepover, that last goodbye not knowing when you'll see them again. It's those fleeting moments I have always been trying to hold onto and wishing for, but alas, life is filled with hellos, see you agains, and goodbyes. If you constantly look at the goodbyes, the hellos drift away, ceasing to exist.

Ever since 6th grade, when play dates no longer seemed endless but fleeting to the last day of middle school, I thought I understood time. Staring out of my car's rear window on the last day of middle school, caught in the realization of having seen friends for the last time and others only seen once a year if ever. Yet still caught up in telling myself "all too fast will I be swimming in my last high school swim meet and walking down the aisle collecting my diploma." Now, six years later, a sophomore in college. I feel ever more lost only knowing that looking into the future holds no worth. Now stuck in the endless loop of responsibility and taking charge of my future now, to carve my own path. With my parents no longer on the sidelines coaching but in the stands cheering.

Now three days till I turn 20, the last of all my family friends' kids to reach this mark. It's both a blessing and a curse to be the youngest. As the youngest, I will forever be the child they mark their age. The "our small baby is reaching double digits, becoming a teenager, going to high school, learning to drive, going to college" usually accompanied with we're getting old. But it's nice being the youngest; you can be as silly as you want and the parents are more lenient. As the youngest, you are not subjected to "what do you want to be when you're older, or what is your plan," and if they do, the response "I do not know, I am trying to find what I like" is satisfactory. Having grown up in a Chinese family and surrounded by Chinese family friends, all of which holding a PhD, that response usually would not be an acceptable answer, but being the youngest you're greeted with support, sincere or not. You also get to be a jokester and bring a childish attitude and humor to the table that everyone seems to enjoy, or maybe they're just used to me, who knows.

Well now having turned 20 twice, looking back do I wish I was younger? I’d say no. Don't get me wrong, I would love to be 10 again back in middle school with my composting gang, no care in the world. I could play any sport I wanted to, still had dodgeball and gym class, recess, and no one really caring what you do. Yes, I miss high school and the swim team. The ability to go back to your own bed, coming home to a home-cooked meal, seeing your family every day, most importantly being able to see my cats every day. But those woes eventually subside; however, I still miss my cats when I am at school. With the subtle challenges of growing, you learn that it’s the small changes that crush you but never the less mature you any less. Thinking back to the first time my sister went off to college all the way to California. I felt broken and even cried a little. Because even though we had not seen each other a lot at home due to conflicting schedules, the presence of just her at home knowing I could do younger brother things and annoy the hell out of her if I was bored. But now I feel indifferent every time she leaves, a little sad but sure that’s how you’re supposed to feel. You learn to realize that everyone has their journey and the best you can do is give them support.

I would say the worst part of growing up is not the responsibility but finding yourself. Not in the sense of your fashion style or being out there, but finding what everyone calls purpose. Yeah sure it sounds cliche and dumb, but I am lost. Gone are the days to which what you did was decided by your parents, the sport you played or classes you took. And I frankly do not know what to do with my life, I know I am not the only one and that people say you still have time to figure it out. But for now I am lost.

Does that mean college is not fun? No, college is a blast giving you the highest highs and the lowest lows, in the end helping find yourself. Those carefree days may be gone, but the memories will always be there. But seeing your friends grow and propelling yourself to greater heights as adulthood blossoms is an evermore exciting endeavor.

Now that my winter break has passed, having skied down that mountain and climbed even more. Having heard, "It's not about how long you see me for but that you saw me," something my grandma said after we traveled to China and saw her for the first time in 4 years. As simple as those words are, I no longer wish to have been in China any longer, nor wish to ski down the mountains of Switzerland once more, but content with it having ended and happy that it happened. No longer looking far into the future but ready to enjoy the present.