And now I’m 26, which feels no different from 25, but it’s hard to believe that ten short years ago I was 16.
I have a tendency to distance myself from what may be an answer. Perhaps I am content in my discontent.
And sometimes I think when I can no longer bear to think, I think of you, and proceed knowing I don’t want to be that.
Once again, cramped in a small space waiting for my roommates to arrive to cramp themselves in an even smaller space. I have no room to complain.
Running low again on supplies, I am growing sick of always worrying about restocking. Oh well.
Reruns of Cheers wreak havoc on my me time, my hour of creativity. But that’s not altogether fair, because I have me time all the time which I think may be the ultimate problem.
And now I know that my home shall always be by the ocean, and although I do miss the mountains, I have more of an appreciation for the Gulf.