Two days ago, I celebrated another year of life.And today I am twenty-eight years old,
(newly, of course)
and as I see those words scrawled out before me,
I can't help but feel baffled.
These days, these months, these years,
they all feel so confined to my head (obviously),
and as such, I can't help but notice that this whole "getting older" thing is really just a wonderful effort to put some kind of organization to this madness.
I need mile markers,
preferably with reflectors,
to help separate out the late, late nights and good books and hastily written papers and fits of laughter and months of tears and cups of coffee and big decisions and unfortunate pimples and delicious meals and not-so-delicious meals and short trips and dinner dates and messy rooms and really great songs and piles of dog hair and fights with loved ones and long kisses and loud thunderstorms and heavy heartbreak and bottles of beer and sleeping in the hammock and big worries and small victories and bad haircuts and beautiful dresses and new friends and old friends and hard conversations and angry prayers and lovely prayers and gut-wrenching prayers and moments of silence.
I desperately need these things to be remembered.
So, thank you,
to each of you,
who helped remind me of the importance of
reflecting upon the many moments that make up my years.
Sometimes I drive far too fast to find any beauty in the blur.
You are all loved more than you know.