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I just finished watching Good Boy! on DVD and, were I fifteen or sixteen again, I would be crying right now. I still feel small tingles of emotions, though they aren't anywhere near as strong as they were when I was a teenager. Yes, the idea of growing up still (and I'm starting to think will always) bothers me. Cute boys still (and undoubtedly will always) make me smile. Just thinking about Liam Aiken's happy face puts a grin on the side of my face. And, as always, by the end of the movie I pictured my facial expressions looking like the main character's. I also related to the idea of the boy wanting a dog, but his parents constantly fixing places up, moving, fixing a place up, and moving again. A fantasy crossed my mind as I watched Liam in the dogumentary on the DVD. He was my boyfriend. At least it's a change from longing to be him. It's hard to believe that three or four years (15 or 16 vs. 12) once seemed like an eternity. It's even harder to believe that it's now turned into nine years. There was a time, years ago, when Joey had to practically drag me to a beach or force me to wear shorts because I was so uncomfortable with hair on my legs. I shake my head now. I was actually attractive then (as Joey kept trying to convince me), but I was upset that I couldn't look twelve or younger. It's so often the case that we don't know just what we have until we loose it. You'd think I would have learned that by seventeen (when we used to go to beaches together), but I seem to find it hard to be content. Well, now that I'm twenty-one, I should hope I'm finally getting the picture. We keep getting older. I keep getting older. Yet, I still look younger than I will years from now. I am, to many people, still young. Just as I want to go give my teenage self a kick in the butt to get me to appreciate what I had, I see my thirty or forty year old self wanting to give me a kick right now. Albeit things are not perfect, but nothing is. This time will never come again. Joey and I still get along like kids many times. I'm content right now. The trick for me is that I'm either paralyzed by longing or by contentment. I need to be more like Joey and appreciate what I do have, but strive for more. For some people--for successful people--loss makes them even more ambitious. For others (like myself) the moment I lose something, I can't be happy without it. I couldn't be happy without the youth I'd lost or appreciate the youth I had. I can't turn back time. I must learn to make the most of what I have and strive for more. I'm getting older. At least I'll get a little more respect than I once did. That hasn't happened too much quite yet though. I've spent too much time looking back. Joey sees what could be and I see it too. It seems like such a far off dream sometimes, but it is a dream that can come true. I used to dream of waking up one day and being a kid again. At least a dream for our future is a bit more realistic. And, with both Joey and I working toward it, we may yet make it there and that dream will come true.
  We all get older. Would I want to be younger? Of course. But, I'd rather be in love, even now that I'm older.
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