80 years alive and four eating food, five reading books and 57 with you, two eyes one nose one smile one life, it somehow isn't ever quite enough time

^^Hank Green, It All Makes Sense at the End.

I had a realization about myself today, while combating the tiny but ferocious chickens.

I can't wait to get old. That's not to say that I don't love life, and don't want to live every moment to the fullest extent, and that I'm not passionate about living. I do, and I am. But I found this song last night. Look it up on YouTube, because I can't get the URL to copy for some reason. It All Makes Sense at the End, Hank Green.

See, there's something that excites me about being able to look back on my life, and saying, "Damn that was a good time." I look forward to getting married and having kids. I look forward to getting a job, and hopefully doing what I love. But even if that doesn't happen, even if I end up doing something I hate, and I don't ever get married, and my sisters don't even have kids, so I don't get any little babies to play with, and all that, which would SUCK, I still can't want to look back on my life, and seeing why what happened, happened. I don't know if that makes sense.

I really want to get married, so that I can get so enmeshed in his life and in our life together that when I get old, I'll be like Oma and Opa. Oma complains that they barely even see each other, because they don't go out together or anything. But, whenever something happens to Opa, be it a cold or a flu or something worse, she goes mad. It's obvious that after fifty two years they've come to this place where there can be no exsistence with out the other. I truly believe that if one of them died, the other would be gone within six months. That, to me, is the epitome of a successful life and marriage. Even though they maybe had some really hard times - they didn't think my Opa would live to be fifty, because of his health. Yesterday was his seventy-sixth birthday. They had lots of troubles together, but they never stopped loving each other. What Hank says must be true: it does all make sense in the end. They can now look backwards, and say, "Maybe I don't understand why that happened, but it still makes sense. And I'm glad we went through it together."

That intrigues me. I know, I'm only seventeen. And I still have my whole life ahead of me. A life of happiness and heartache, a life of laughters and tears. A whole life. My mother always warns me not to wish my life away. I know that - and I really do enjoy almost every moment of my life. I sure treasure every moment, whether it's easy or hard. And sure, there's things I wish I could tell my younger self (I may just have to write a letter to her...) but that doesn't mean I'm not glad I went through everything I did. I already greatly enjoy looking back on my life. I so, I can't wait until I get old, and then I can reminisce with my old husband, and smile about the good things and chuckle about the stupid things and puzzle over the bad things.

NaNoWriMo starts in two days. I'm participating this year. The plan is to type it all on my typewriter, because otherwise it'll never all get done. I shall write about old people. I love old people. They have such good stories.

Man, it's so hard not to cheat! I want to start the story now, but I can't. 'Cause it's not November yet!