In The Mind Of...

“Oh, you’re searching for something I know won’t make you happy…” - Corrinne Bailey Rae, “I’d Do It All Again”

You’ve forgotten I’ve ever existed.  Just like everyone else.  

I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you.  no doubt.

This weekend, I was proposed to and spent time with the man that I shouldn’t be in love with.  These two people are not the same.  My life is weird.  But we already knew that, didn’t we?  

“So scared of getting older
I’m only good at being young
So I play the numbers game to find away to say that life has just begun…” - John Mayer, “Stop This Train”

The older I get, the less appreciative I seem to be about aging.  I remember when I was a child- every birthday brought me closer to exciting things- being 10 (double digits, so cool!), turning 13 (old enough to legitimately watch PG-13 movies!), sweet 16 (awesome birthday party with a limo ride), 17 (old enough to legitimately watch Rated-R movies!), 18 (old enough for voting, smoking, and sex shops…not that I did the latter two ;)), 21 (self-explanatory…).

Once I got past 21, though, I started viewing birthdays as things to dread.  22 (who cares?  Nothing exciting there!), 23 (that weird in between age), 25 (oh, God…now I’m actually a “REAL” adult- I just hope I have my shit together by then), 27 (My God, I hope I’m married by then and have a sturdy job, or else I’m really screwed), 30 (it’s all over…).

I’m not sure why we’re conditioned to think this way- it’s really idiotic, actually.  Of course, with each year old you turn, there are more responsibilites to be had, but there’s still things to be excited about.  And when it comes down to it, what’s the alternative to getting older?  Dying.  And I don’t want that.

I was feeling kinda down about turning 23 this year.  Just because, as I said above, 23 is that weird in-between age.  And I know everyone that’s older than me, in their forties or above, are rolling their eyes, but take a second and remember what it was like when you were turning 23.  Maybe you weren’t as introspective as I am, but I generally feel like 23 is the age where you’re supposed to be getting it together.   You should be on the road towards a career, towards complete independence.  People get married at 23.  People have kids, buy houses, graduate from college, start careers, buy cars…at 23.  When my mom was 23, I was already two years old!

I don’t feel like I’m failing at life, not at all, but at the same time, I’m no where near any of those things.  And it kind of makes me feel weird to say, “I’ve been on this earth for 23 years, and I’m nowhere near any of those things.  I WOULD be done with college, but then I took a break…and….”  Yeah.  It’s an odd feeling.

I was feeling all depressed about it, and then I stumbled upon a Facebook fan book for the Cancer Treatment Center of America.  And I saw this one comment:

“Today, I turn 25 yrs old. Thank you for making that possible.”

I started crying, and am, in fact, crying now.  Because here I am, lamenting, taking for granted the fact that I’m getting older, and someone is is so very thankful to even be alive another year.

I know it’s cliche, but we really do only have one life.  And every year we have of this life isn’t promised to us.  It can be a blessing, or we can let it be a waste.  I’m going to make the choice to embrace each year as a blessing.  

Because I’d much rather turn 23 today than face the alternative…