(But half of it was written around 11:15)

"Edge of Seventeen" by Stevie Nicks is playing on my radio as I write this. I’ve always wondered about this song. Does she mean she’s about to be seventeen or eighteen? On the front edge or the back edge? I’d like to believe that I’m on the edge of seventeen. I’ll be seventeen in three short months after all.

2013 is coming to an end. The end of my sixteenth year. Sixteen. That age is so special, it’s celebrated, hated, coveted when you’re an awkward twelve-year-old and brings nostalgia when you’re forty-six. Sixteen means new freedoms, what with driving and all. It’s your most important year of high school; junior year. Sixteen means the beginning of love, of heartbreak, of growing up, of learning lessons, of becoming who you are.

And honestly, that’s a lot to ask of a sixteen-year-old, and frankly, I’m ready for seventeen.

Maybe seventeen will be better. Because sixteen has been a whirlwind, and I need some sort of clarity. 2013, the year I was sixteen, has brought me more trouble, happiness, shame, joy, tears, hope, decisions, loneliness and laughter than I could ever ask for, could ever want or need.

I can think of all the defining dates right now.

January 19th
March 2nd, 22nd, 24th
April 6th, 21st, 27th, 28th
May 24th
July 11th
October 31st
November 16th
February 9th
June 15th
All the 9ths and 15ths after those

2013 has been the best and worst year of my life. I’m not exaggerating. I mean that quite literally. Sixteen is a crazy, wild thing and there’s no way it can be controlled or tamed. And while I’d love for some of that to die down a bit, I hope 2014, seventeen, brings as many lessons and love and memories as 2013.