Growing Up Note

The metal frame burns blistering hot in the sun, frying your hands as you hold the bike above your head, arm and back muscles aching from the clunky extra weight that you’ve endured for the past ten minutes. Balancing on one foot, you take a tentative step onto the next rock, careful not to slip on the moss or algae that have made it their home. 

“Hurry up!” You hear your friend call, her voice echoing through the trees surrounding you. Looking up, you see she’s farther up the creek, her mass of curly blonde hair starting to escape its messy braid as she whips her head around to watch you, her own silver bike hoisted above her head. 

Sliding your soggy sneakers over the next few rocks, you catch up to her, your tire hitting her handlebars due to the close proximity you now both balance precariously on. Leaping, she lands on the rugged bank in front of you, resting her bike against the ground and shuffling out of the way so you can follow suit. You drop your bike next to hers, their shimmering green and silver silhouettes matching the rocks and grass beneath you. 

Turning, you realize that she’s already begun to climb, almost reaching the top of the six-foot rock wall that towers over you. Gripping the stones, you begin to follow, the jagged terrain scratching and digging into your hands. Once you reach the top, you settle onto the ledge next to her, stripping your socks and shoes off and dipping your feet into the miniature waterfall that gurgles down the wall you’re now perched upon. 

With a deep exhale, you take in the scenery around you. The woods that you grew up running through. The creek you used to swim in. The friend next to you, who you’ve known since you were three. Even the waterfall next to you, that you two discovered together a few years ago. Everything feels so perfect, so right, just as it should be. 

However, your mind then begins to think about you. How much you have changed, even though it feels like nothing around you has. How nothing will ever be the same as it is right in this moment. And how you may never be able to relive this moment again. You feel panic begin to consume you at these thoughts of uncertainty. Is this it? Is this everything? 

Looking next to you, you meet your friend’s watery blue eyes and take a deep breath, moving closer to her so your thighs bump against each other and your head rests on her shoulder. Of course, this isn’t everything. This is it for now, but more will come, so it’s best to just enjoy the present. And will never be any more perfection than there is now.