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"only time will tell if wishing wells will bring us anything. they fade like scenes from childhood dreams, forgotten memories." - the gin blossoms

there's a certain sadness in knowing that something is too far out of reach to ever get it back, no matter how good it was. i think i miss summer days right after graduating high school the most because they are the ones that shaped me into who i am today. picking from my circle of twelve the ones that i still hold close to my heart to this very day. those were the days when we began to splinter off into: those who went out and lived and those who remained behind and hated on us. the best friend and i became what we are now because of those very days. we were the ones who were "out of control" on a "road to destruction" or whatever they said at the time. we were the two without a curfew all through high school. we were the ones that randomly showed up at parties. took a last minute road trip to pennsylvaia just to take some pictures, turn around and drive back home. we met and partied with strangers on more than one occasion. but we were always there to watch out for one another. growing up, leaving careless days long behind you, hurts sometimes. you can feel the weight of the memories pushing down on you as you age. i think what hurts more is the fact that days like that exist to me now only as memories, never as new events. yes we have fun. i wouldn't change who i am or what they mean to me in the slightest. it's just that it can make you feel a llittle sad when you think about how you have to schedule time to have fun. it's not something you do every night starting at 10pm, as you once did. you don't just decide to visit another state on a whim. you don't drive all night to get to your vacation destination after just getting off of work. you don't drive out of your way to stop and flirt with cute boys who are supposed to be at work bagging groceries. you don't just drive to a theme park one hour before it closes, flirt your way in for free, ride three rides and head back home. you don't sit on your family room floor with your best friend, drinking way too much beer, consuming an entire jar of pickles while watching party of five. you don't just get in your parents huge, huge tank of a car, several mix tapes in hand, and drive until you find something fun to do. or drive without ever finding anything to do. just you, the best friend, the mix tapes and the stars. that night, that moment being enough. spinning tires around the circle in the middle of the town. a cute boy kicking you in the head while crawling over the front seat to squeeze himself between you and the best friend. laying in the back yard underneath the stars, fire blazing, illegal beers in hand. the days when everything seemed new to you. everything was an adventure. everything was a first to you. you walked hand in hand into the unknown, never scared, never looking back. as long as she was there with you, seeing you through it, that was good enough for you. you can't get those days back. the newness. the first time of anything. you're older. a little more jaded. a little more rough around the edges. you love her all the same, perhaps a little more even for seeing you through all that. but still a certain sadness remains knowing that you can't ever go back to how it was. to the days where you found yourselves together. where you laughed. where you grew. where you experienced firsts. where you became the people you are today. she's still around. some of the others are as well. you still love them the same. but you can't help but feel a longing for something that was lost. something that once was. something that can never be again. you count back the years, all twenty-nine of them, and you wonder if wishing wells will ever bring you anything.

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