A curb. 

A little block of cement to separate the road from a sidewalk or garden. 

I haven’t been able to convince myself that I am going to be an adult soon. Sure, I understand the age, and I understand the responsibility that will come with adulting, but I haven’t thought about leaving my childhood behind. 

A curb. Better known as a plank, balance beam, or just a general challenge. 

I haven’t thought about how all adults seem to have their life together. How am I supposed to do that? How do I pretend to know what I am doing even though I am more confused than ever? 

A curb. The ankle-twister of adults and the fear-former of mothers.

I haven’t thought about the home I will leave behind and the friends I will lose from distance. Many people know I am not the best at responding to texts; what if I lose everyone? 

Though I am excited to turn the page of high school, I try to forget the part about losing my friends. I tell myself that could never happen, but it already started for some of my closest friends who have moved. 

A curb. Every time I walk outside, it’s what I gravitate towards. I like walking on the outside of groups so I can challenge myself on the elevated ground. I pretend I am a nationally acclaimed gymnast. I freak myself out occasionally when the curb becomes a wall that I have continued to climb. 

Why don’t adults ever walk on curbs? Why is that something people grow out of? Do they miss it? Because it is my way of life. I see a curb—I must walk on it, no matter how high up or who I am with. It’s like jumping across crosswalks or running through sprinklers. I will never be able to shake my love for childhood. 

I am excited to leave the closing-in walls of high school behind, but I can’t leave my childhood with it. I will be the weird, sole adult who walks on the curbs—not just to get around people, but also for the joy of it. I know the rest of my life will be hard and scary, but as long as I have as many of my friends as possible and the ability to walk on the curbs, I will be good. 

A curb. Leftover cement from the road. A safety precaution to reduce accidents. But also a place for imagination to run wild. A four-inch block of fun. A memory builder. And a childhood saver.