Once, when I was twelve, I tried to jump from one end of the monkey bars to another. Naturally, I missed and slammed my head on the metal platform. There's a scar between my eyes that will be there when I die. The same year, I went to a classmate's birthday party. It was held at a soccer club and it was 7pm- a huge deal for a twelve year old. The soft drinks and candies laid out on the tables with blaring music felt to a pre-teen like the wildest house party. Naturally, that meant escaping outside with a friend. Into the chill of the dark night. There was a small playground with a lone pair of swings and we sat in silence next to each other, a sentimental song filtering quietly through a tinny phone speaker. Sirens wailed in the far distance and a smoking lady leaned against the bricks of the barbeque picnic area, watching us. I've never had a crush but I remember vividly falling in love then. With the night, the song, the smoking stranger, the girl next to me, and life itself.
It terrifies me that I'll forget. It exhilerates me that it doesn't matter. When the universe is so big, what are your memories (experiences, decisions, life) even worth. It's incomprehensible.
I guess the point is... Hello. Welcome. Take a look around. I hope you're doing well. I hope you keep doing well after you leave. It's cool that we existed the same time once.