The Bygone Days of Our Youth

When we are young, we feel invincible.

Free to do whatever we want with the time we’re allowed to ourselves. I remember well, the only “rule” was to be home before dark. Beyond that, the world was my oyster. Nothing can hurt us, nothing can stop us. Peter Pan never wanted to grow up, and neither did we. We were Lost Boys, forever roaming free.

Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free –Lost Boy-Ruth B.

We saw adults, on a regular basis, that were old. Somewhere, in the back of our minds, we had to know it was coming. I recall my grandfather starting sentences with, “When I was your age” and thinking to myself, that had to be a lifetime ago!

I find myself doing it now, reminding the young that they won’t always be that way. Not in an attempt to harden them, but as a reminder that youth, like most things in this life, are as fleeting as a feather on the wind. To remind them to enjoy it while it lasts. Because not all of us were able to remain young as long as we should have.

Truly, nothing makes you feel as old as when someone you worshiped, someone you gave your heart to, dies. It may seem silly to some, but the death of Luke Perry this year broke the hearts of many. He was still young, only 52 years old. And for a lot of women who grew up in the 90s, he was their first bad boy.

He was definitely mine.

I had posters of him all over my walls. No Jason Priestley for me, I only had eyes for “Dylan McKay”. Okay, being honest, I had a bit of a thing for Shannen Doherty as well, but that’s another story. Before I was introduced to the ultimate fictional bad boy love of my life, Lestat, Dylan McKay was it for me. He didn’t care what anyone thought, parents hated him, and the girls loved him.

Exactly the kind of guy I thought I wanted.

Unfortanately, that’s not exactly the kind of guy we need. As someone once told me, it’s not a bad boy we’re really looking for, but a good man willing to do bad things to protect those he loves. A man who has his shit together and doesn’t look for trouble, but isn’t afraid to face it if it finds him.

That’s better.

I’ll admit, I tear up remembering that lost youth sometimes. The carefree days in the sun, when I really didn’t have anything to worry about. These days, worry is my constant companion.

Maybe one of these days, I’ll regain that feeling of freedom, and smile again.

I think, therefore, I write. ccuthbertauthor@gmail.com /Posts may contain affiliate links.

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