A Big Old Birthday

So what? I turned 18. Not a big deal, right? I can smoke cigarettes now. Legally. I can also go to jail for real now, if I was to murder or rape someone. Or steal a pack of gum.. Anything goes. I can buy spray paint and dry ice. I can sign my own parental release forms from school (what a rush) and if I wanted to get married and have an apartment and a bunch of little babies running around all while I flaunt my adulthood by the date on my driver's license, then by all means, I can do that. I can say that I am two years away from turning twenty and my mom got married when she turned twenty so really, that must be the next major milestone in my life. I can live on my own. I can make decisions for myself. I can be who I've always wanted to be- all because one more day went by in my otherwise uneventful life. I am an adult now.

Happiest person I know. 

Birthday din din hugs.

My cute Knit Whit. 

Realistically, though, all turning 18 meant for me was one year older. I didn't wake up happier than I usually do or feel astronomically accomplished. In fact, I woke up a bit grumpy because I went to bed much, much too late (so kill me. I was on a date), hadn't showered, and was unable to eat breakfast, seeing that it was Fast Sunday. It meant going through the motions of a usual day- they weren't weightier or more meaningful than usual. Church was just that- church. No one cares that you're now an adult. You go to church and you sit where you always do and you see the same people and relearn the same lessons and smile, a lot. I went on a bike ride to commemorate my current life event that didn't actually feel like a life event. I still had trouble on the hills and I still sweated a little bit and still felt equally cool about my light yellow cruiser that was recently purchased for college. The bike didn't care that I was 18. Neither did the hills or the sweat, I suppose. I ate dinner with the people that I love the most- happens everyday. They didn't really mind that I was now an adult- I'm still my parents' baby girl and I will never stop being the aggravating older sister to those little people that share this house with me. The sun rose and the sun set, people had terrible-awful days, people had wonderful-lovely days, tears were shed and laughs were heard, dinners were eaten, and I was a part of the swirl of minutes that doesn't change for anybody or anything- even that monumental day that we call an eighteenth birthday. 

This beautiful flower balloon, though.

We have an eternal feud. Even
at birthday dinners. 

I am just Sam. That will never be any different. I have never felt not myself on the inside- my heart is where it has always been and so is my head. I am the person that I was born as, and that is the same as the person that I've become. It's just me. Adult me. Teenage me. Childhood me. I'm me, through and through. And I guess even a big old birthday can't change that.