He was left thinking, later. The stars twinkled above him, the same stars his friend had longingly looked towards. The same stars that his friend was always facing, with his eyes closed and a mound of dirt on top of him.
In that moment, as he gazed at the stars and the stars seemed to gaze back at him, he felt truly alone. A small, insignificant piece of human flesh, set to meander across the earth just as many others had before him. It was painfully familiar: the loneliness. He felt alone with seven billion other people walking, breathing, struggling, about the planet and he had felt alone the past summer, even when he had his friends to turn to. Now, there was one less boy to trust. He was too slow and his friend had disappeared too soon.
Even before his friend's car had crashed into that tree, he had felt an invisible chasm beginning to separate them. Now, there was a ravine that could not possibly jump. He would have to fall in order to reach him. He wasn't quite ready for that yet.
He knew what tore them apart: the adventure, the wanderlust, the exhilaration.
Perhaps he wanted adventure, too. Maybe he also thirsted for the wind through his hair and the tingle of excitement up his spine just as his friend had. But for whatever reason, he didn't pursue the thrill. Maybe his internal instincts knew he had something better to do, a greater purpose. Maybe he was too afraid or too busy. Or maybe he was just better at occupying his mind to create adventure internally. Whatever the reason, he wasn't tempted in the same way. Or maybe he was just better at refusing the primitive urge for adrenaline.
He was the same as his friend, for he, too, had seen the saying YOLO plastered everywhere- Twitter, Faebook, t-shirts, and hats. Everywhere he looked he was greeted by the same four letters. Eventually they were plastered not only all around him but inside himself as well. It was impossible for those letters not to effect him; they echoed throughout the school hallways and followed him online. They were inescapable.
He found the saying a bit ridiculous. YOLO, did people think you could live twice? And wasn't it just an excuse to do stupid things that could very likely cut that one life short?
He didn't completely shun YOLO, either. Somehow, he believed that the saying had the potential to be good if put to the correct use and he intended to do it right. To him, there was a YOLO to have fun, and the other half more often forgotten: to be successful. He decided to take the road less travelled by.
It was hard, because while he was working to get money, save up for himself and his future, his friends were out having a blast. They were still sleeping when his alarm clock blared, signaling the start of a new day at work. When he was cleaning puke out of the pool, his friends were at the movies- no doubt laughing at something even more disgusting and gory than child vomit. When he wasn't working, he studied and looked into colleges. To him, it was boring but necessary. His friends seemed to lake the forethought.
The chasm opened as he spent less time with them and more time outside getting burnt by the sun. And when the rest of his friends came outside, he had returned home, tired but steadfast in planning his future. YOLO. He could not live life without a plan of action. He needed to create this safety net. He had only one life to live and he would not do so in a shroud of failure.
He wasn't sure when they stopped being friends, or if it really stopped at all. Maybe he had worked too hard and they had lost touch. Still, he didn't regret it.
He suspected the main source of their falling out would have to be that summer. He had heard that his friends were driving up to California. He was not invited. Not that it would have mattered much anyways, because his work schedule was extremely difficult to work around.
It still hurt that he wasn't asked. It hurt more when they came back, talking about the trip and how exciting it was. The girls. Disneyland. Surfing. That little voice in the back of his brain that survived through adventure craved for just a minute of that vacation. YOLO. Did he miss his chance?
In the long run, he was glad that he didn't go. Somewhere along the way, they had stopped being his friends. They were just people wearing his friends' faces and the change was far too painful. He didn't want to be so easily swayed by a little road trip and some sand on the beach. YOLO. In his lifetime, he just wanted to be himself. He didn't want to become like them.
He knew he had made the right choice. To remain firm even though a part of him wanted to join along. For now, he knew what to do with his life. He learned how to work hard, to say no, and to be himself. In the course of that summer, he learned more about himself than his friends ever could have. It made him feel accomplished and successful. Relief that his efforts had pulled through and that he had emerged victorious. He had made himself a future and a life to live.
As he stared up at the stars, he can't help but wonder. Could that be him lying six feet under if he had cried YOLO one too many times?
