twenty

a few days before my birthday and i realised i’ll never be twenty again. i may never think of it again, i may scream, cry, plead with god, make a deal with the devil but i’ll never be twenty again.

and what did i do with twenty? not much, i can tell you that.

sure, there have been a few great moments, but it isn’t like seventh grade, when we’d laugh so much we’d often end up on the floor. it isn’t like eighth grade, when we’d sing songs sitting in the back of our classroom till our classmates got pissed off. it isn’t like sixteen, with so many new experiences and new people.

there hasn’t been much in twenty; at least not much of joy anyway. actually, i think i might have misplaced my ability to feel joy somewhere along the road to twenty.

my friends gifted me a deluxe edition, hard-cover copy of my favourite series. it had sprayed edges— i had always dreamed of owning something like it. and yet, when it was in my hands, no pleasure coursed through my brain. the chemical reaction with serotonin and dopamine just… didn’t happen.

the gift is sitting on the table beside my bed now. it is staring at me. i showed it to everyone, i thought maybe that’s enough.

twenty wasn’t good to me. a month after my twentieth birthday, i lost a person who all but raised me. i didn’t feel twenty then, in the middle of his room with all his dvds scattered around. i felt like a child, waiting in the middle of the store for him to grab my hand and lead me to where the toys were.

twenty made me realise most of the people i considered my friends weren’t actually my friends, and when i tried counting, i couldn’t go above the number 1. but i picked up a lot of hobbies. at least twenty didn’t make me abandon them all, not like thirteen had.

the day i turned twenty was good. my friend planned a surprise that i never suspected, and i didn’t talk to her again for seven months. but that’s just a curse i have: if someone celebrates my birthday, i end up losing them.

twenty made me stop caring. i can argue it’s for the good, but it doesn’t feel that way. i just wish there was a way to stop all this, to halt time in its tracks and block its path. maybe even to divert some of its turns.

i don’t want to keep growing older.