Here’s an observation. We're all living at the edge of our lives. Obvious. Constantly on the edge, waiting, for the next thing. Never ahead of ourselves, occasionally looking back, but still always on the edge.
The edge is a scary place. Scary because we're all afraid of the things that we don't know are to come. Scary because the things that are familiar are behind us. Scary because the footprints we make change the landscapes we are on forever.
Forever is such a scary word. At least its scary for me. The reason being for this fear is that forever is a concept that I can never imagine. That’s why things like heaven and hell can seem so scary. How can you have forever?
I remember what happened yesterday. It was one of those long summer days. The kind that seem, when you are seven years old, to last forever. I remember the air was soft. I was lying on my mattress in an empty room. So close to the floor that I could smell the wood. My cheeks lay on my pillow, my eyes soaked in the orange sunlight that came off the wall in my room. Everything would have been clear. But it wasn't. Tears blurred my vision and made paths down my cheek to the growing puddle on my pillow.
Tomorrow, I remember, was to be the day my family moved back to California. Today, I remember, was the last day that I was to live in the quiet suburban house that is no longer ours. The edge was sharp that day. The life that I had made in that house were soon to be footprints. The times my brother and I had, believing the house was haunted, climbing the wood pecked sour apple tree, jumping down the stairs. All behind me. The friends I made, the neighbors I found, the people I loved. All became memories. I remember that night. Tomorrow seemed like a long way down from the edge where I stood.
Its all a memory now. Just like what actually happened yesterday. A conversation I heard between an old man and a young boy. He was thirteen. Being snide, saucy, and sarcastic, as thirteen year olds often are. This is what I heard.
"Look, how old are you."
"Thirteen"
"I’m 53. I remember my 40th birthday. That was when you came into this world. You don't know a damn thing."
"When's your birthday."
It's easy to see what just happened. Boisterous, proud youth comes up against aged and humbled experience. But they're both living on the edge. It just got me thinking. And when I get thinking, things just get thought of.
I'm making one of the biggest steps that I've ever made. A stride made for adults. Am I ready to take it? There’s the part of me that looks back to what was, and looks at what is, and doesn't want to budge. My friends, as horrible as it sounds, may turn into my memories. My home will no longer be my home. Then there's the part that looks off the edge, and sees outlines of wonderful things waiting. The freedom that I've been longing for, the challenges that I crave. I can't stop the progression of time. So I won't try. But I will try to remember the steps that I have taken and am about to take. And of course, I’ll try to be brave. | 
yeah...
