Twenty-five

So, my birthday is in a couple of days. Twenty-five. (Give me a sec. to let it sink in...)

My friend says that it's downhill from there.

Does it matter? No.

Because I did everything I was supposed to do at 30 when I was 23. (This doesn't include finishing my Masters, but, at least, I've started it.)

I look back ten years. I was 15, a sophmore in high school. I think I was more understanding and patient then. When you get older, they say you become set in your ways. Certain things become black and white. Your life starts to pan out, be it planned or unplanned.

I'm grateful for where I am.

But I'm not content.

I feel like I'm running out of time.

If I stand still, I won't be able to catch up. Sometimes, I'm moving so fast, I can't breathe.

This year, I'll make it my own. Each day will be brand new. No more past worries. I will slow down and take a breath.