It’s not everyday that you go to some crazy haunted house. It’s not every day that you bury your head into your best friend’s back in hopes that he’ll protect you from the monsters. It’s not every day that you wander through a cemetery, or even watch your friends try to climb trees in the dark on Halloween night.

We all have adventures. I suppose I don’t get to go on many but when I do go on adventures I can’t help but leave with a sense of fulfillment. As someone with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I find it extremely difficult to go on adventures. I find it hard to go out of my comfort zone. I’ve pushed myself, of course, but I’ve never fully went out of my comfort zone until last night. And it was such a freeing experience. It seems stupid. But I guess when you’ve been in a bubble for your entire life and it finally pops it’s unbelievably refreshing.

110 MPH on the highway? Completely reckless. Really stupid. I sat in the back of the car, pre-panic attack, staring out the window. I had a choice, a choice I didn’t even realize I had a say in. I could either let this moment take over my entire being, or I could control myself. My latter self would’ve probably just let the moment take over, and I would’ve been a sobbing mess. But I didn’t. I really made an effort to try to push myself. Yes, I had reason to freak out. That’s reckless behavior. But in a way I still trusted the driver.

Monsters? No problem. I’m still scared, and Grant will probably vouch for the fact that I maybe looked up three/four times throughout the entire haunted house, but hey, I did it. There used to be a time when I would immediately cry in haunted houses.

I then found myself at a decent party. The conversations were boring and forced and I found myself retreating back into my shell. Since when did we become the generation that no longer participated in meaningful conversations? I hope that changes, because I really want to have a nice discussion sometime soon.

Next thing I knew, I found myself in my friend’s car, singing Frank Sinatra at 11:36 p.m. on a Saturday night, and smiling like no other. I turned to my best friend, completely confused at how, for a lack of better words, wild and free we were, and asked, “What the hell are we even doing?” to which he replied, “We’re living, Kylee.” We’re living. This is something I often took for granted. I often think there’s going to be a million more moments like last night. But then I realize that hoping for the future is boring and that the future holds no guarantees. What if last night was going to be the best night of my life? What if I was too busy thinking about future nights to appreciate this one?

Soon I found myself at some playground, sitting on the baby swings. My friends were climbing trees and playground equipment and I found myself laughing like no other. So this was living. I saw my friends chase deer and sing and dance with complete strangers. This is definitely living.

Even when the night came to a close, and I ended up watching Saw V with my best friend at 1:00 a.m., I still had a newfound appreciation for life.

We won’t always have perfect days. Things won’t always go to plan. Trust me, the best moments you will have in your life will be those spontaneous adventures. Life isn't about the perfect moments. Sometimes you just need a car, a couple of friends, and nowhere in particular to go, and you’ll find your way. Maybe life isn’t about the perfectly planned moments, but maybe it’s about the moments where you just hop in the car at 11:45 p.m. and say, “oh what the hell, where should we go now?”