It's like waking up one morning and everything looks the same, but doesn't feel the same as it did the way before. You feel different. You act different. You make different decisions, but you're not quite sure why. But you're the same as the day before. You think it's just a number. You bite back the sarcasm that comes to mind.
You have experience now; you use your experiences to determine what you want to do. You feel young. You feel old. You want to see everything and spend everything. You want to stay home and save your money.
People look surprised when you tell them your age. "You don't look that old." You shrug your shoulders.
You seem wise at times. Other times you seem foolish. You still feel a flood of emotions whenever that person you really like enters the room. You wish you didn't. And then you wish that you could always feel that way.
Sometimes you make reference to something and people give you a blank look and you realize that they weren't born in the same decade as you and have no idea what you're talking about.
You still get excited about things you love. You still mourn for things that didn't happen. You still fear rejection. You still yearn for acceptance. You understand yourself better. You don't understand anything better than you did last year. You hope for the best. You work hard. You play hard. You take some time to rest. Your friends support you.
Anxiety sneaks up. Depression does too. You wish they could both go away. You work through it with the help of good friends. You learn you can change and be happy. You learn. You grow. You feel joy. You struggle. You cry. You cry some more. You laugh. You laugh some more. You go to bed.
Thirty-two is the beginning of another year, another step forward, another adventure. It will probably bring some sadness, trials, and frustration. It's just another year of being alive. And being alive is fantastic. You're just you.
[My birthday was in February. I'm a little tardy in getting this up.]
