in2 days. i will be 30.
in2 days. i will be at the age where i said i would, by then, have done something. i have not done it. not due to lack of my own desires but, let’s just say, lack of correct situations. i am okay with this.
in2 days. i get to look back on a tri-decade of life.
in2 days. i thought i’d be more sad by now. i’m not. i’m fierce. i’m happy. i’m secure. i’m oscillating. one moment i am wonderful, the next i feel bereft. i think it’s the grief talking, and not the me talking. i think the grief is still working it’s way through the me. it takes time.
in2 days. i am supposed to give up smoking. i’m not. fuck that, seriously. just fuck that.
in2 days. i will be free of the hell and the heaven that my 20s brought with it.
in2 days. i get to start to learn about the third time around the pendulum. strangely for me, this swing feels more solid than it did 10 years ago.
in2 days. i will celebrate, not commiserate.
in2 days. i get to reflect on everything the past 10 years has taken away (parents included) and everything the past 10 years has given (gorgeous child, love abounding and so, so, so much more ).
in2 days. i won’t wake up alone on my birthday for the first time in 10 years.
it is that that makes the difference.