My dad stole the title “24” on my actual birthday, so I have to use the words for the numbers, instead. Guess that’s a consequence of not posting my birthday post on my birthday, but let’s not dwell on it.
Anyways, I turned 24 a couple days ago (thank you all very much for the birthday wishes), now I’m here to write my thoughts on the matter. Before I do all that, have a song:
Well, that just said everything I was about to say. But in a more fun way.
It’s not every day you hear a song that is able to perfectly describe not only your situation, but exactly how you feel about the situation, but this one does that for me.
Specifically, I’m 24, still live with my parents, sleep the entire day away, have absolutely zero plans for not just my life but for literal dinner, all my friends are getting married and having babies, I’m tired all the time, I don’t know how taxes work, and I don’t know how I ended up like this. And most of all, it feels like yesterday when we were kids.
Where did the past decade go? Why am I not about to enter my first year of high school? Why am I not passing out party invites into my classmate’s lockers and picking out homecoming dresses? Why am I not trying to sneakily text under my desk on my first iPhone or hoping the seating arrangement puts my crush right next to me?
And the answer is, I already lived all of that. I did the dress shopping, I did the whole hanging out with your friends at basketball games thing, I decorated my locker with magnets, I anxiously awaited to see my ACT score, and thanked the lord when there was a snow day. I had that life. And now it’s over, and it has been over for several years.
I should be okay with that, shouldn’t I? It’s just how life goes. One chapter ends and another begins. So why am I stuck flipping through the pages of the first half of the book?
Why do I look at my friends in their wedding dresses, or holding their baby, or buying a house, and see them as thirteen year olds with braces and overly straightened hair?
I miss being twelve and spending the night at a friend’s house and getting so excited I could drink a Mountain Dew because my parents didn’t let me have caffeine. Now I’m an over-caffeinated iced coffee addict.
I miss being fourteen and playing Call of Duty: Black Ops II on my PS3 with my friends and having to take turns because I only had two controllers. Now one of them is stationed in Hawaii and the other works twelve hour days in a factory.
I miss being sixteen, when it felt like my heart would burst with joy when the guy I liked wrote me a poem to ask me to be his girlfriend. Now, I have a whole book’s worth of breakup poems.
I miss my youth. And I know I’m still “young”, but it’s not the same. And it never will be. And I don’t feel okay about it.