There are no more ifs, ands or buts about it. Today, I am 26. Did I do anything special? No. Did I have cake? No. So there you go. It was just another day. It just happened to be the day I was born 26 years ago.
My 25th year was terrible. There was a lot more heartache and tears than I anticipated, some of which I’ve completely accepted and moved on from, some I’m still struggling to believe actually occurred. My 25th year was, simply put, a massive disappointment. All things considered, I realise I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, but I’m also only human. When things don’t go the way I hoped they would, the way they dared threaten to go, for fuck’s sake; when, after all is said and done, what I’m left with is confusion and question marks, well, it’s frustrating, and it’s hard not to let it get me down. And to be perfectly honest, there were times when I was really down. I just chose not to acknowledge it, publicly or otherwise.
I’m definitely working on looking at the big picture though. It’s coming along. Among things like being alive and healthy and having a job (yes, I have a job now and have had one for over a month), I’ve also bought my plane ticket to Paris for March. Yep, that’s actually happening, God-willing. So amid the doom and gloom, there’s still some light, there’s still some hope. I think that as long as I’ve got things to look forward to, I’m okay. I don’t feel like my existence is a total and utter failure. And so I guess if I’ve got a wish, it’s that may I never run out of things to look forward to, and may I always dare to hope.
Happy birthday to me.