In One Hundred Years

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In One Hundred Years

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In one hundred years when I’m dead and gone nothing will be left of the time I spent roaming the halls of Broken Arrow High School. There won’t be my footprints in the snow in my front yard in the winter. The pictures pinned to the wall by my bed, with tiny gold push pins will be lost, or sold at flea markets with the label “vintage”. My friend’s smiling faces, will be lost to time. No one will know our favorite coffee shops, or movies. There won’t be a history book devoted to my family’s story. All that will be left of me is bones, or maybe ashes scattered somewhere beautiful, I’ve probably yet to see.

But, I cannot wallow in the fact that in one hundred years, the world will be a completely different place, and no one will know who I really was. I can only experience life as it is now. I wake up, dance around, and sing aloud. My friends surround me, and we laugh. My dog sits next to me on the couch, and my dad sits in his recliner watching movies while I do some long overdue homework. I create art, and learn about different cultures, and people that will never know how much they’ve affected my life. I travel and dream about things I’ll go on to do before my hundred years are over, and it’s time for me to go.

When I’m ready to part ways with the beauty of life- and I hope I never am- I’ll look back on the time I spent in my youth, and smile. To think of all of the memories I’ll have by then is daunting, but if I play my cards right, a hundred years from now won’t be so bad.

 

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