Dawn of a New Era

Daylight would soon begin its daily ascent above the horizon and illuminate the water below with a shimmering glow. Perched at the water’s edge, our shoes thrown aside and the water gently caressing our feet, we sat silently soaking in the darkness, admiring the brilliantly glowing white stars before they completely disappeared, and before the night came to its unavoidable conclusion. It was the night we had anticipated for so long and didn’t want to end. It was a moment in time we would never get back. A moment in time we would never forget.

We popped the champagne cork on our fourth (or was it our fifth?) bottle of the night. As we waited patiently while each glass was filled, we looked deeply into each other’s eyes and shared the wan smiles of those who know they’re about to imbibe in an obligatory celebratory drink without quite knowing what it is they’re supposed to be celebrating.

Was this the end of an era? Or was it the beginning of a new one? It occurred to us in that moment that it was both. We raised our glasses and toasted our future, then silently sipped while the sky’s tone shifted from black to grey and the twinkling of the stars grew fainter with each passing moment.

The bubbly alcohol revived our moods, and we jumped up in unison and began running across the grassy field. We raised our arms in the crisp, cool air and began to spin and laugh. “I’m a bird!” exclaimed one. “I’m a butterfly!” exclaimed another, while we enthusiastically flapped our arms. We were free. No one was watching. It was just us. We didn’t have a care in the world. Or were we just pretending? Were we just trying to keep things light to maintain an aura of cheer that not one of us was truly feeling in that moment?

My boyfriend reached out toward me with both hands outstretched then gently held mine before gripping them tighter and spinning me around in circles. It was a metaphor for the night. Maybe if we just held on just a little tighter this wouldn’t end. It wasn’t yet time to mourn. It was still time to dance.

Our friends followed suit and began to spin wildly alongside us. Suddenly, I fell to the ground from dizziness. Then the others laughed and plopped down next to us in the middle of the grassy field. Silence. We each stared off into the distance. No one knew what to say. Glimmers of light brightened the sky.

We hadn’t prepared ourselves adequately. We hadn’t anticipated the sadness we would feel when we had embarked on this – our last journey together – and it was suddenly overwhelming.

The night we had been waiting so long for had held so much promise. We had dreamed of it and talked about it for months. Tuxedos. Silk and satin dresses. Borrowed sports cars. Extravagant steak dinners. Music. Dancing. Parties. Champagne. Cake. Swimming. More champagne. More parties.

But now it was all winding down. Time was marching on. We sat silently watching the horizon grow brighter and the light glistening and dancing across the water. We passed around what was left of the champagne, each taking one last sip from the bottle until it was completely drained. We intuitively knew not to say anything. Words would ruin the moment.

I held back tears. I refused to cry. But I knew it was the end. In no time, we would all be heading in different directions, never to revisit this moment in time again. Though we hadn’t voiced the official words yet, I knew I’d never see my boyfriend again. He would soon be leaving for the entire summer. I’d be gone by the time he came back. That would be that. We would be over. No long-distance relationship for us. It would be time for us both to just accept it and move on with our lives.

We all had new futures to attend to and those futures wouldn’t include each other. It was inevitable. Everything was changing. But hadn't we wanted everything to change? Senior year. Mentally we were ready for the confines of high school to end. College admission letters had been arriving for months. Shrieks could be heard through the halls when the news of our acceptances were shared with our inner circle. We would all be going in different directions. Parting ways.

Tonight was our night to celebrate all that was ending and all that was coming. But that excitement and reverie dramatically dissipated as reality slowly set in. We were about to head off into the great unknown, far from each other – our safety net of people who knew us so well and cared about us. We would be thrust into entirely new worlds with entirely new routines and complete strangers.

Did we want to escape our parents and their rules and curfews? Of course. But we also didn’t want to lose each other. Our posse. Our pack. Our security blanket. Our sense of belonging to something, somewhere in this world. It was all going to change from tonight forward.

More silence. The white orb in the sky slowly revealed more of itself and finally lifted completely above the horizon to edge its way higher into the sky. The night was gone forever. Our moment was gone forever. It was just another day. Another Sunday. Just like any other Sunday in our town. Though with our newfound awareness, we knew it wasn't just any other day.

As we surveyed the landscape one last time, my boyfriend abruptly announced, “The hell with it. Let’s go for some pancakes." We all nodded in silence. Our mood was slowly shifting from melancholy to acceptance. Our lives were going to move on. None of us could think of any reason we shouldn’t go for some pancakes and simply get on with it.

Please note: The point-of-view for this story is when the legal drinking age was eighteen years old.