Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The rapid onset of age and what I know about it

In a day or so a friend of mine starts his last year before 30. Another friend just started 30. I know a kid who is going to be 6 in a month. I think it is 6, I'm not sure. I can think of someone's birthday for every month except for October. There is this one guy, but I haven't seen him in years, he doesn't count. Age seems to be catching up fast. I still feel about 22. I know a lot more than I did at 22, about everything, but, inside, I'm still 22. Just to catch you up, here's 22 for me:

  • November 16th, 2004 to November 15th, 2005.
  • I was finishing my time at Bed Bath and Beyond, and starting my time at Pepper's.
  • I was not single, then I was, then I wasn't.
  • I lived in 2 different houses.
  • I opened a savings account.
There is other stuff that happened, but that is what comes of the top of my head now. What is it that "they" say sometimes? The more things change, the more they stay the same? I can see that. I rememer having a conversation with my dad on his couch, telling him I was going to get married, I was going back to school, and I was moving.


Details are not important. But it happened. The conversation, at least.

Oh yeah, age. My body makes funny noises now when I move at night. I don't rebound as fast as I used to. I know more things, but am forgetting how to interact with people, especially people I love. I give up sooner, even without giving up. I worry about things I didn't used to, but none of those things are houses, kids, careers or success. I have less friends, but they mean more.

So where am I? Canoga Park? Yea. In love? Yes. Sleeping on the couch? Sometimes. Lonely? Sad? Bored? Cold? Excited? Lost? Emotional? Old? Happy? Check, check and check, infinity!

There is no impending doom. There are bad days, but more good days. There are lost nights, but more found days. I like to think I have it figured out, a least part of it, but I say the worng thing, or let the wrong thing hurt me, or let the right thing keep me occupied, and then I realize it is all gone.

It is hard, most days, but it is worth it, and it feels good.

Too happy? Too sad? I don't know.

I've been thinking of friends I've lost, and what my friends have lost, and what I need, and what I miss, and the holes aren't as big as they used to be, but I don't know how to tell anyone.

So, here's this: Thank you. For the snowy walks, for the glimmer you gave to a friends eye, for the tears we had, for the laughs we will have, and for every day to come.

We will get it right, I promise.