Im getting so old

I feel like Im getting old. I turn 22 in March. Twenty-two!! Then shortly after is 23. Which is nearly halfway to 50! Im almost 50 years old! Haha, ok I might be exaggerating a bit.

But seriously, I was thinking about this today, and I really dont want to turn 22. I dread the fact that everyday, I am one day closer to 22. I feel like when I turn 22, Ill have to grow up. But I dont want to grow up. I dont want to have responsibilities. I dont want to act mature. I like being young, making stupid decisions, having fun, dodging the real world. I still cant even believe Im 21 already, I feel like I just graduated from high school. And I dont feel any different from then, I feel like the same person as back then. I certainly dont act any different. Well, according to my dad, I dont act any different than a 5 year old though.

But, a couple of years ago, I had already realized that Im getting older, and I decided that Im not going to grow up.

I may grow old, but I wont grow up.

If you have ever met my grandpa Tom, you would know that he is the perfect example of this. He is, I believe, 68 years old, and he doesnt act much differently than me. He still likes to have fun and be goofy, popping his teeth out, making funny faces, being silly, and just enjoying life.

Alright, Im going to go off on a tangent here. But when I was younger, I used to spend about two or three weeks every summer down at my grandpas house. He lives down in southern Illinois, which is about six hours from my house, so I would only get to see him a couple of times a year. So for probably four of five years, I would live with him for a few weeks each summer. And I think that his personality rubbed off on me a little. I think that part of him had shaped who I am.

He is not a wealthy man. His whole house is about the same size as our kitchen and living room combined. He lives on a dirt road, out in the boonies, with a few old garages and barns around his house, and a bunch of, what he likes to call, "stuff." You may call it junk, but we refer to it as "stuff." His workshop is an old, gutted mobile home. He used to own two or three little Ford Festivas, and loved them terribly. Actually, I still think he has one, a newer one. And he knows every single person in town. And their brother. We would just be driving down the road, he would point to a house, tell me who lives there, who used to live there, who they are related to, where they work, how he knows them, and so on and so forth. He is also a recovered alcohol, and he could probably tell you to the day how long hes been sober. I think its been like twenty some or thirty some years. I have a huge amount of respect for that, that takes a strong will.

In those few years of spending time with my grandpa, I learned a lot, and Im still learning from him. I learned some things like how to drive a stick shift, how to ride a dirt bike, I rode my first motorcycle with him, and a ton of other little things. I distinctly remember him teaching me what a cliche is. I dont know, its one of those tiny memories that stick. But now that Im older and looking back, Im also realizing that Ive learned even more from him that I didnt even know I was being taught, or he even knew he was teaching. Like how to talk to people, strangers, how to treat them like people. Ive learned to not take life so seriously, because the things society thinks are important, really arent that important.

Ive learned how to be young, even when youre old.

But anywho, Im just saying, I dont really think I have to grow up quite yet. My grandpa hasnt, and he seems pretty happy. But I still dont wanna turn 22.