That is twenty-five years old. And I am a little more lost than I usually am, the emptiness is a little greater than it usually is, and I feel farther away from life than I usually do.
But I have learned lessons. I’ve learned very hard lessons and I’ve learned very easy lessons. Life has beat the shit out of me, and life has handed me gifts. I’ve fallen more times than I can count, hung from the end of this rope for longer than I can remember, and I’ve fought more battles than history can recall.
And now, it’s just me, and me, and me. I’ve got the world in the palms of my hands and I’m holding as tight as I can. I may feel like I’m standing still, while everyone speeds by me, but I have my feet under me, and that will always be enough. Always.
Today I am 25. And as difficult and long the journey was to get here, there were always flowers to stop and smell along the way. No, I’m not anywhere near where I thought I’d be at this stage in my life, but I suppose life doesn’t follow anyone’s plan. I’ve been making the mistake of looking at how far I still have to go, instead of how far I’ve come. And coming to terms with that, well, means I might just be headed in the right direction after all. And if it weren’t for those struggles, weren’t for those times that brought me to my knees, than I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy and be grateful for the times that held me up.
And I still have plenty of time to finish growing into my own skin. And in knowing that, the darkness in me, doesn’t seem so dark after all.