this year, i turn the big 24. it’s a scary number, i think. it signifies that i’m slowly creeping up on my mid 20s, and later, my 30s. i don’t really mind aging but i feel like there’s so much responsibility that rely on these sole numbers.

when my dad was 24, he was engaged. my mom, at 24, had been working for years already and helping support her family. what have i been doing?

i graduated last year, at the whopping late age of 23. i’m on my 3rd job post completing college, but my current one is my first permanent one. i’ve never dated, never been intimate with someone, and i haven’t even been asked out. ever. it feels like i’m late to the game.

a few days ago, i was talking to a friend from australia. we met each other on twitter in 2017 and had, at one point, been talking daily. we don’t talk all that much now, but recently we’ve managed to catch up. her brother’s graduated college now and works as a nurse; her sisters are in high school. that’s crazy. they were so small when i’d last heard of them.

she asked if i’d graduated, i said yes, she got a little emotional. we’ve finished high school and college together, and we’re both working girls now. it’s crazy how far we’ve come from 17. deep inside, we’re still both teenagers, afraid of the big world ahead of us.

it doesn’t feel like i’ve aged past 19.

recently, i got some treasury bills. i went through all the legal documentation my bank asked for. i felt like a child wearing an adult’s costume. what do you mean by liquidity? what do you mean by maturity? there were so many words that i knew individually, but when they were strung together in a sentence, it was like i suddenly became illiterate. i had to ask my banker for help, ashamed of my own ignorance. or is stupidity a more apt word?

i wonder how much longer can i use my youth as an excuse? my dad jokes that i’m 42 and i laugh along with him but how much longer before i’m truly that age? at what point do i stop being a blithering young adult and become a knowledgeable one? it feels like everyone’s got it all figured out and i’m here, still holding my parents’ hands when we go out because i’m scared i’ll get lost.

the days and months go by so quickly now. i’m afraid that i’ll truly be 42 in the blink of an eye, with nothing much to offer but my less than sparkling memories of college and high school, and perhaps the bitterness of growing up.

i wish i was a child again. it’s so scary being an adult.

i hope my parents won’t ever tire of me needing their help; tire of me hanging out in their room; tire of me coming to them crying out of frustration, the same way i did when i was 7. i hope they never tire of my afternoon calls. i think the moment they do will be the moment i’ll need to come face to face that i’m not quite as young anymore; that i am the big 24, no longer a child.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

a song to end the night. i hope i articulated this well enough. i'm bad at trying to explain my feelings, but i'm trying. by god, am i trying.