there are 64 subsets to the definition of time

As I was leaving Newhouse today (my home college where I get all my communications courses) I heard this girl murmuring to her friend

"... and I thought, here I am turning 20, leaving my teenage years. It really made me turn over a new beginning..."

As it happens, I will be turning 19 in three days. Not quite the new leaf exploits that this girl was broadcasting, but a marker nonetheless. I find birthdays odd, because I know the age I'm leaving feels far behind me (I'm not 18 anymore and I certainly don't feel 18), but I can never quite adjust to the newer older foreign age (19? Seriously? Check my records?). Though logially, once that birthday marker has been hit, the age you've turned isn't really your age at all. Any three year old will tell you they are really three and three quarters, not like that kid over there who is three and one fourth, they're younger I'm older, it matters. We spend one day a certain age, but then take an entire year snuggling into the clothes of the next. I'm not really 18, I'm working my way to 19. Of course, when I get there I will only ride through that train station onto my next decade. This argument would never hold in court :)

That year stretches into an infinitely laborious tedious forever, that looking back blows by briefer than the beating of hummingbird's wings. My mother will gladly attest to the much too much too fast growing up of her daughters and the terrible taunting of her classroom clock. It is all a matter of perception. Our most passionate emotions seem to draw time out, while our distracted mind lets time skip past us like a schoolboy cutting class. 

To illustrate this more personally and after much pestering, I'll finally mention someone very important to me

Brian

As of tomorrow, Brian and I will have been dating for eight months - a feat previously matched by former boyfriends, but not as much enjoyed. I've found in Brian a fondness that matches me more completely than most, and an unbiased understanding that I love. Love. It's Love. 

The moments I spend with Brian are varied, some in his solo company, many times over meals, and often with other people whether with friends at a rehearsal or in a crowd. Being the sappy couple we are we discuss everything from books to baking and breakdancing and naturally, this. The movie ending "time stands still when I'm near you!!" is not quite our professions to each other, but the underlying scientific curiosity is there. Brian is a math major and I am a born wonderer, so we dig deep into philosophical debates by outlining logic and observation. We're nerds.  

I have a strong admiration for Brian, so naturally my senses and perception are heightened. I like being around him, so I'm happy, my brian is engaged. I like to learn new things about him; what makes him laugh, the pattern of freckles across his nose, or what his fingers feel like interlaced with mine. Paying attention to detail and focusing on minute attributes stores more information in the memory causing the time we spend together to seemingly span forever. I will remember exactly how he smiled when we said goodbye, but the walk home will be lost as soon as I reach the elevators to my dorm. 

Of course, the brain also reacts this way in the face of negative thoughts. Though we are certainly happy, there have certainly been unhappy times. These moments are marked just as vividly and oppressively elongated as my most beloved memories. It is the strangely adverse effect. The sad moment is pushed toward the edge of the mind, but the strong emotions that created it (i.e. fear, anger, grief) make it's presence colorful and detailed. Of course there are always exceptions to this - "I was blinded by fear" "I was so angry, I don't even remember what I was saying." But the timbre of the event remains. Even if you cannot recall what was said, you can practically taste the catalyst. 

No matter, sappiness aside, impassioned emotions are what we remember most vividly. Logically because we don't live our lives one dramatic moment to the next (well, most of us). The out of the ordinary stand out while the normal slides past. Time is inevitably on my side, win or lose. Birthdays emphatically stress this point. Maybe that's why my father ever denies having one. There is never enough when things must be done, and there is much too much something more important is pressing. The bane of our existance for sure. But it can be merciful. Those beautiful moments can be just as electric in the mind, gracefully alleviating any oncoming depression I may have triggered with this turn in blog theme. 

But that's what it's for, guidance. To forget the follies and triumphs of the past is to live foolishly and ignorantly. I wouldn't trade my memories for any other life. Maybe that's my new beginning. 

I'll take it.