Turning 15 feels so in between-ish. I can still remember waking up on my 13th birthday and feeling like I could grab life by the hand and run as fast as I can to infinity and beyond. It was the thrill of finally having "-teen" affixed to your age; opening new avenues to maturity (such as access to PG-13 movies?). Life, for me, started at 13. I was finally "old" enough.

Then the thrill, slowly and subtly died down as I neared 14. My privileges as a teen lost it's novelty and became slightly over-used. Within the next few months, I was CRAVING for greater thrills. Just like the thrill I had when I was old enough to ride a bike or "go" without any help from my parents. Staying up till I wanted to lost it's luster. So did getting a raise in my allowance. No. I wanted more. It's insatiable. Passion on a whole new scale.

Just two weeks before I turn 15, and already I'm looking forward to when I get to drive and possibly hang out with my friends for hours on end or even "go out with" (if you catch my drift). Although there are STILL many things I can be excited (and even be thankful) about 15, I feel as though life gets better and better as we "mature" and it just dawned on me that age grows fundamentally with responsibilty. This is probably the part of growing up that most (ok some) adults, even young adults such as myself tend chuck out of the window. Maybe that's the doubt that's been sitting in the back of my head all these years I yearned for maturity. No one's exempt.

Probably all that I was in for were the perks and freebies of finally being "older than old enough" forgetting the heap I still have on my plate. And no doubt I'll tire of it eventually. I don't want to reach a "should've, would've, could've" point in my life where I forget, having my eyes strained to what my following years could offer, forget to make a moment of what I have now. Life's been good all these 14 years, 2 months, 12 hours and 45 minutes and I never missed a beat.

16. 18. 20. Well I'll get there. When I get there.