Quarter of a century sounds more fucked up than 25 but I still like it more.
It’s 25 minutes past midnight. 25 minutes past holy fuck I just turned 25.
I pause and take a sip of leftover Dead Guy Ale. I may be out of tortillas but at least I am not out of coffee or beer. Phew! I didn’t want to have to walk a few blocks to Hamilton’s to drink a pint by my lonesome. Not that I mind, there’s nothing wrong with some alone time.
I planned on going in to work early tomorrow so this is just not a good time to reflect on my life, especially realizing that I was born 9 months and 1 day after Valentine’s Day. Ew. Cheers to another long night!
I reflect on my accomplishments, my mistakes, my breakdowns, my near-death experiences and I reflect even more on how all those translate to my closest loved ones. I am still in the process of recognizing death in life because all I have ever known is life. The idea of death has always terrified me because I have never experienced a major loss. I am currently in the struggle to come to terms. I don’t plan to live my life like there is no tomorrow because that sounds fucking exhausting and on some days I feel it necessary to linger around my house in flannel pajamas and not have to think about anything in order for me to be able to function on most days or even get by emotionally draining days.
2011 has been an intense year for me and I probably experienced every emotion imaginable. I questioned my relationship. Experienced a severe state of depression. Made several mistakes. Proved how much of an irresponsible asshole I could be. Not only that but I also made peace with people who have deeply hurt me and was contacted by someone whom I am expected to be close to, but I am not so it’s so confusing and I’d rather he’d have never contacted me at all. It was a year where I let myself go and after years of being afraid of taking risks, I jumped.
I am very fortunate that when I jumped, I landed on my feet and was able to responsibly sort a lot of pending things out. I made tough decisions and made the radical commitment to be a solid person. To be myself.
Not a single day passes by where I feel a deep sense of nostalgia for my childhood. I think about this and smile because I had a glorious, creative, loving, imaginative childhood.
Pause. Sip. Inhale. Exhale.
I still don’t have a fucking clue about anything. My identity is no longer based on labels or subcultures, but it is now grounded on firm ideals of self-liberation and a new consciousness of loving myself and loving those around me.
I am in a good place. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. I feel like this is ultimately the pinnacle of my life because there is still so much for me to learn, there is still room for mistakes, and I still have the ability and the time to go in any direction as I’d please.
I toast myself to turning 25 and continuing to survive in a world that can be so hurtful yet so beautiful. Cheers!
