A few days ago I turned twenty six years old & honestly wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
There’s no fear in aging. It just felt like I couldn’t really account for every one of those twenty six years. Some years went by in flash and some were like a weight on my back, where every single second gained more mass. There’s the obvious highs and lows, and I know it sounds strange, but sometimes I can’t recall those. They don’t immediately come to mind. They aren’t what cause a smile to play on my lips when I daydream in the middle of the day. It’s those situations that seem meaningless but are able to make time stand still.
The ones I want to wrap myself up in when I have trouble sleeping, or when I get stressed. They’re oftentimes the balm to wounds and cures to deep discomforts.
It’s more like my boyfriend taking me to a fancy restaurant and us acting like we’re VIPs because we were the only ones there (when really, it was just really late on a weekday lol). To trying and failing to crawl into a box with my niece, and her deep belly laugh. Walking into the theater this Saturday and my family cheering that it was my birthday celebration until I started dancing. It’s the texts from my Mama late at night, letting me know that she loves me. Hearing my Daddy’s voice call me his baby, no matter my age. The elaborate stories my sister’s brown eyes relay to me.
I have twenty six years worth of these, so I’ve given up on keeping track of the typical.
These are more than enough.
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