The Final “Twilight” Film and My Existential Crisis

This past week, I had a conversation with a friend about our existential crisis over our looming 22nd birthdays. When you turn 18, it means independence. At 21, it means being legally allowed to act like a crazy person. “What does 22 mean?” we asked. Should I be thinking about my career? Can I continue the craziness without feeling unaccomplished?  Am I a real adult now? What do I do?

So, it’s eerily appropriate the last Twilight film Breaking Dawn Part II is released today, two days before my birthday.

As a high school theater nerd and overall awkward teen, Twilight was just what the doctor ordered.  To say reading about the forlorn love triangle between Edward, Bella, and Jacob tickled my fancy is an understatement. I lived and breathed those books and first movie. It was the melodrama and adventure I desired at that time in my life. When I got to college that changed.

As I watched New Moon in theaters my freshman year, my entire perception changed. The melodrama and love stories I once coveted became over-acted and almost embarrassing. How could I have once loved a series like this?

When the credits rolled, I started to laugh. I replayed scenes of Bella seeing a ghost of Edward while riding a motorcycle or Jacob taking his shirt off just to wipe a bit of blood off Bella’s cheek. Then, I smiled. I actually enjoyed watching the movie. Even though I could taste the sappiness, all I wanted to do was watch it again, because, for 2 hours, I was 15 again.

That’s why I’ve seen all the Twilight movies in theaters. I sit in the back row, watch, laugh and remember how I used to be. These movies are a nostalgic drug I can’t help but be addicted too. Now that the last installment opens today, I’m dreading the withdrawal.

It’s the same feeling I had when Harry Potter ended; yes, I can watch these movies over and over again, but I have nothing to look forward to that gives me the same feeling of humiliation and elation. I have nothing that’s stopping me from being an actual, real adult.

I guess I just have to accept that 22 years old means something more tangible and permanent than 18 or 21 did. I can no longer hide from the future behind vampires and magic. I have to face it head on.

Having this movie come out days before the beginning of my future is exactly what I need. I’m going to pay $10, get some Skittles, and forget about internships, job searching, thinking about where I’m going to live, or if I should go to grad school. I’m going to be 15 today and 22 tomorrow.