one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23

one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23 and you’ll realize that you have no fucking idea what to do next. you stand up from the bed, face the mirror, and still recognize your face from a couple of years ago, when you turned 18. you’ll look at your 18-year-old self and you laugh because you’ll remember how she thought that by the time she’s 23, she’d know everything.

and it’s a little disappointing because your 18-year-old self looked up to you, and yet you’re here and you don’t even know how to toast a bread without burning one every once in a while.

one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23 and you’ll look back at all these years. and you realize that you have no idea how you got from there to here or how you spent yesterday just lounging around while everyone you know is doing things that matter.

and it’s a little disappointing because you thought that by the time you’re 23, you’d have a job you hate and love at the same time, you’d have someone who brings you flowers on big days, and you’ll have a pet you’ll name after your favorite musical theater character. but you’re 23 today and all you have are fragments of reasons why you’re still stuck in a job that feels more like war than a career; and you no longer see your friends because you’re too lazy to participate, and you have a dog you simply named “dog” because who the fuck has time to think about dog names?

one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23 and you’ll realize how stupid it was to be an 18-year-old who thinks that by the time she’s 23, she’d have a place of her own because today, you only have a house and it no longer feels like home.

and it’s a little disappointing because every night you come home and sleep and yet you still wake up restless and uneasy.

one day, you’ll wake and you’re 23 and you’ll ask yourself why people are saying you look different, or prettier, or that you gained weight from several months ago. one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23 and you’ll have your relatives telling you that you look older and more mature.

and it’s a little disappointing because when you look at yourself in the mirror, you still see the same old you from several years ago, the one that’s too scared to take on the world because her eyes are big and she can see how cruel the world is. you hear your relatives telling you you’re prettier and you’re looking more mature but you still feel the insecurities of your 18-year-old self, the one that has a voice telling her that she’s not good for anyone to love.

one day, you’ll wake up and you’re 23 and you’ll realize you’re still the same and yet you’re different; because you have the same smile and you have the same eyes but everything around you is different and unfamiliar.

and it’s a little disappointing because when you were 18 you remember telling yourself you’re not gonna be the rest of them, and you’re here today, staring out a window asking yourself, what happened to me?

one day, you’ll wake up and you’ll realize that you’re 23 and you still don’t know any better.

and it’s a little disappointing because your 18-year-old self believed you could actually be better than this.

 

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