Lost and Happy

Well it’s now the week after spring break, and I am having severe withdrawal of the combination of audacious sunshine and cool waters. Bliss is truly the feeling of sand in my toes and a sunburn on my nose, a quote I oddly remember from my sister’s quick google search of beach quotes for her instagram picture during winter break. It was nice going away for a week to a place I had never been before. It felt awfully college-y and terribly grownup-y. A delayed birthday gift to myself commemorating the dawn of the 20s, I suppose.

But I made sure that it wasn’t just going to be a beach trip. I wanted to explore and travel, an activity I would then document by snapping a few insta pics of my own along the way. The most exciting times were those where we slept through the alarms, woke up fifteen minutes before the scheduled meet-up time for transport, and ran down the streets with half a toast in our hands and unkempt hair on our heads. At times the camera wouldn’t be charged, or we would get no reception to text or make phone calls. We even forgot to pack our swimwear for a trip to the beach once. But we knew that each mishap would become a funny story in a week’s time.

While walking around around and snapping pictures like the tourist that I was (when the camera was charged, of course), I realized that my friend and I were the token ‘young adults’ in the tour groups. When I traveled with my family before college, I would always see the late teens/early twenty-year-olds in their shorts with their knapsack, camera, and wavy hair walking in the outskirts of the circle of our tour groups. They were always so friendly and would respond enthusiastically to the parents  inquiring of their background, education, and future plans.

I had an epiphany while answering these very questions on the bus trips that I was now the 20-year-old in shorts with my knapsack, camera, and wavy hair. I must have looked as lost and happy to the kids as the 20-year-olds had looked to me. It was weird to think that in years down the road I would become the parents asking the questions, but that thought is for a quarter-life crisis I’m pushing off for later.




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