I had been sitting outside my house on a wooden bench. In my hand were several photographs and a yearbook. It was a beautiful fall day, and I could see the mountain that was visible from my house splashed with the brightest reds, oranges, and yellows of the fall. The evening air was so cool and clear and crisp, with the sun just beginning to set behind the mountain. I could smell the clean air have a faint trace of the odor of leaves.

Looking through the photographs and yearbook, I was brought back to simpler times. Times when we were little and so innocent, not having a care in the world about anything. There was one picture that I stared at for a long while. It was a photo of six of my best friends and me that was taken in the summer after sixth grade. We had our arms around each other in our bathing suits and huge smiles on our sunburned faces. One girl had on a pair of huge sunglasses, another with a flower in her hair. I marveled at how young looking we were. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered that summer and how obnoxious we were, thinking that we were so cool. We would all go to the pool or the town center and walk around as the guys would pass on the sidewalk and laugh to themselves at our desperation and sweaty faces; to think we were only 11 years old. If this is how I felt reflecting on when we were 11, all of us will look back on high school and say the same thing about how stupid we were at 14 when we’re 18.

I put the old photo away and came across a yearbook photo from eighth grade as I was flipping through the yearbook. This picture was of the same people, in the same pose. Our arms were around each other, grinning profusely. But this time, the picture was in the wintertime and we all had our heavy parkas on outside in the snow. I had on a fleece scarf and brown hat. All the girls wore dark, furry boots as they were standing in the falling snowflakes. Our faces were red from windburn, and the hair that stuck out from underneath our hats was frizzy and matted down. In fact, I actually remembered that day quite clearly. We had just finished throwing snow at each other, laughing and challenging one another, shouting and being kids. It was taken during lunch in December, when it was 30 degrees out. This time the tears rolled out of my eyes and down my cheeks, wetting the page. I was thinking about what I wouldn’t give to go back to the days where we wouldn’t worry about exams and who we were or popularity and boys. It was eighth grade. Graduation, onto high school. What were we to do now? I guess the only real option was to try, and make the best of these next years to come because time waits for no one. Once it’s gone, it’s gone and there’s no turning back. I even remembered that we agreed to be best friends forever. We wouldn’t ever let growing up bring us down.

Forever. I always thought that forever meant until we died. But I guess that forever isn’t as long as it used to be- is it?

Now things were changing. It’s all about boys now and who’s friends with who and drama. Of course we were still friends, but it’s never the same anymore. No more going to someone’s house on a Friday night and gossiping and watching TV or not giving a care about schoolwork. No more just the girls hanging out. I cried more at these thoughts.

In these times of confusion and upsetment, it is reasonable to say that we are all searching for our saving grace. Whatever that saving grace may be, I truly do believe it is out there and just needs to be found. Obviously, I have not found mine yet.

Looking at these pictures, remembering the old times, teaches an important lesson. Memories, good or bad, will bring tears, photographs can never replace being there again, and words can never take the place of those feelings.

I’ve come to realize that life is way too short to go on with regrets. Being upset is a foolish waste of time, because every 60 seconds that are wasted being angry is a minute of happiness that can never come back. I guess that we just have to let it be and let our saving grace come and find us. But for now, sitting in the cold autumn air in front of the sunset, it’s okay to fantasize.