The Golden Age

Yesterday, I was at school early. Everyone was tired and unwilling to sing, but there none-the-less. There was camaraderie in that. We were united in our weariness. We were about half way through our rehearsal when a tall, pretty, athletic girl came in the room. My stomach clenched a little bit when I recognized her voice. We've never been on very good terms. But I'm not going to go into that. It is ugly and messy and silly.
My initial reaction to her was anger. And annoyance. But as the rehearsal wrapped up, it was replaced by a sort of pity. She looked so small, hanging out in the room where she had once been queen bee. She had come back, probably expecting warm welcome. Which she got. But there was no fussing. She said things, while she watched us practice, but they were lost in our fluttering conversation. Things at my school had clearly moved on from last year. She was reduced to a memory. And memories don't have nearly as much power as the present.

She is probably enjoying her high school. In fact, she is probably having the time of her life. This is her golden age. I think that her high school years are going to be the best of her life. But when she graduates, everything will dim in comparison. At least, I think that's what I saw in the rehearsal room.

This is not my time.

I should say, I hope it isn't. My time is in the future somewhere, I think. In that time I will hit my stride, and be confident in everything. I'm confident now, God knows. But it's a shaky confidence. I still get that look, when I've been too loud, or too excited, or too- out there. In those moments after the look, which are filled with regret and slight panic, I am paying my dues. It is those moments that make it clear to me, that this is not my time.


But it will come. As most are leaving their glory days behind, I will be beginning mine. Where they fade, I will finally flourish. I'm glad I have something to look forward to.


And I'm excited.