Two and a half decades- that sounds like a freakishly long time to inhabit this planet.
I have to admit it hasn't been such a shabby ride; considering I've been scared many a time. However, it's never been an excuse to put a damper on my parade (I mean what's the use of that- no one likes soggy-blanket-types).
The past year has been really challenging, mostly on the emotional level. I'm not referring to the lack of retail therapy, or what my celluloid thighs have done to my self-esteem, my frustrations with the lack of "good people" out there, or even blue bloody Mondays... These are minor little affairs. Not even the childhood teasing, lashings by teachers, unreciprocated teenage crushes, consuming fear of public speaking can compare to the realization and overwhelming guilt that I've had to endure.
I never doubted that this was going to be the MOST difficult, life altering, prolific, apocalyptic decision of my life thus far, (yes, I am a drama queen). It's been a torturous ride, but I think I'm getting through it kinda fine-ish. The hardest part for me is articulating my feelings and dredging them up to the surface so I can actually deal with them. Seeing someone self destruct slowly and letting them go is most painful. (This was supposed to be light hearted evaluation of my years thus far, but it's turned out to be personal revelation of my inner demons and such...)
At least I still have my good looks (wrinkle-free I might add) and charming personality intact. Happy two-and-a-half decades to me!
