This train is about to depart.
Apr 28
As my 29th birthday falls upon me, I feel a little like I’m trying to play catch up with my life. The world, the streets, the clocks, are all moving as such a frenetic pace, and I want so badly to hit the pause button and lay down on a bed of sand to catch my breath.
I have this image of a girl on a train, and she sees the next stop – the stop at which she’s supposed to step off – coming closer. Only the train isn’t slowing down. The train is, in fact, accelerating. She sticks her hand out of the window to wave to the people on the platform, attempting to signal to them that she is meant to be where they are. She is meant to stand there too. But they only look at her, confused, and unfazed, as this is not their train, and they should have been well on their way to work by now.
28 was so many things. 28 was attempting to rid myself of the icky selfishness that kept me from being a good partner. Much of it is still there – but I’m peeling away those layers slowly but surely, and there is nothing that feels better than every time I feel another layer fall to the ground. I think that after my early 20′s, where I was so desperate to add to myself in order to feel like a whole person, that life began to be more about shedding the layers that only make cloudy the person I am, the heart, the core. I couldn’t make out my own reflection for so long. And I think I’m beginning to reveal her again.
