18

I Thought I'd Be Different

I've been eighteen for about three days now.

I don't really know what i was expecting. I think i thought (irrationally, of course) that being eighteen would make something different. I mean, i'm an adult now. Shouldn't that make a difference? Just to be fair, i think that this 'special' birthday should have resulted in some outside change. Something that people can see, that would immediately identify me as different.

Well, it doesn't. Less than a week ago and i still needed my mothers permission to use the internet at uni. A few days later, i don't. It's silly. I can drink, jump out of aeroplanes, vote, donate organs. Who cares? My eighteenth was just another day. It was a good day, don't get me wrong, but for a day that was supposed to 'mark' something, it just doesn't feel like it did. Now, i'm not saying that this is a terrible thing. I'm just saying.

I had a list of eighteen things to do before i was eighteen. I just checked. I've managed seven (and a half). Dismal. DISMAL. It's pathetic. I didn't even get halfway. If you want to get technical, there was a stipulation on one task that means i've really only managed six (and a half). Granted, i tried. Even so, i failed. Well, not 'failed' so much, because this wasn't a test or anything. But doing all of the things would've been an achievement. Back when i first made the list, it was because i wanted everything to change. Lots has changed, i suppose. But not the things i wanted to change. So that's one thing. But it does feel a little like i've passed the first milestone in life with nothing behind me to consider worthy of note, like i've got nothing to show for all of the time and effort that i put into living.

My eighteenth birthday was good. Birthdays are always good. If nothing else, they're a way to figure out which people love you. People who give you presants, who send you cards, who send messages, who give you big hugs. These are the people who love you. If people can't be bothered with any of those things, then they don't love you as much as other people do. This year, i figured out who really loves me, and who loves me the most. It's never the people you think.

I just feel like something should be different. That things would be different. Like something should've changed. I haven't even been out for a drink and i don't really care. I'm too blah to care. Too empty. I thought i would be different. I didn't know how. Maybe i'd be more confident, smarter, more mature, prettier, suddenly someone that people want to be around. I don't know. But, as far as i can tell, i'm the same. The same old me, with the same old inadequacies, the same old me that i don't like being very much.

I just thought that i'd be different.

Annie