03:51 p.m., Friday, 5 August 2016
This old gal is a year older now.
I'm 25!
And, man, it feels... 24-ish. But better.
I've been having these small realisations that I'm actually 10 years older than the kid I usually feel like I still am. (Well, before I have to pay the bills each month and wake up for work each morning. Then I feel 50.) I still see that 15-year-old in the mirror every day. She hasn't changed much. And I'm glad. As much as life's toughened her in many ways, I'm grateful she hasn't been hardened by the difficult times.
I still love like a puppy and blush like a school girl.
No drama. (Yet.)
No little ones. (Yet.)
No bee. Boo. Bae... whatever he's called. (Yet.)
Even my biological clock ticking away hasn't scared me into shacking up with anyone. (Yet.) I know many great guys and have went on some great dates. But... I don't know... maybe I'm "too comfortable" being single? Or maybe it feels fugging awesome keeping myself to myself? There are definitely worthy suitors... I guess I'm that selfish, maybe?
I made out with a guy I dated back in college last week Friday. (Ha!) Can't remember the last time that happened, so I must've thought, "Maybe he's got Lindt Cookies and Cream chocolate in his mouth." (Clearly, I'd do anything for Lindt Cookies and Cream chocolate.) He called me the next morning wanting to see me and "my phone died".
Sorry, guy. It was just a kiss, not a love-back.
Had a party on Saturday. Cute guys and gals everywhere.
A birthday dinner on Monday with my twin sister, her boyfriend, his brother and his girlfriend. (Couples, basically.) The candle didn't burn much though.
Now back to the point of this post -- before I drift further into the chambers of my non-existent romantic life...
Pumla and me received loved from all directions this week, and I'm proud to say I'm becoming slightly less awkward at being on the receiving end of it.
So, here's to life, and to me for finally getting rid the training wheels!
- Trace
This old gal is a year older now.
I'm 25!
And, man, it feels... 24-ish. But better.
I've been having these small realisations that I'm actually 10 years older than the kid I usually feel like I still am. (Well, before I have to pay the bills each month and wake up for work each morning. Then I feel 50.) I still see that 15-year-old in the mirror every day. She hasn't changed much. And I'm glad. As much as life's toughened her in many ways, I'm grateful she hasn't been hardened by the difficult times.
I still love like a puppy and blush like a school girl.
No drama. (Yet.)
No little ones. (Yet.)
No bee. Boo. Bae... whatever he's called. (Yet.)
Even my biological clock ticking away hasn't scared me into shacking up with anyone. (Yet.) I know many great guys and have went on some great dates. But... I don't know... maybe I'm "too comfortable" being single? Or maybe it feels fugging awesome keeping myself to myself? There are definitely worthy suitors... I guess I'm that selfish, maybe?
I made out with a guy I dated back in college last week Friday. (Ha!) Can't remember the last time that happened, so I must've thought, "Maybe he's got Lindt Cookies and Cream chocolate in his mouth." (Clearly, I'd do anything for Lindt Cookies and Cream chocolate.) He called me the next morning wanting to see me and "my phone died".
Sorry, guy. It was just a kiss, not a love-back.
Had a party on Saturday. Cute guys and gals everywhere.
A birthday dinner on Monday with my twin sister, her boyfriend, his brother and his girlfriend. (Couples, basically.) The candle didn't burn much though.
Now back to the point of this post -- before I drift further into the chambers of my non-existent romantic life...
Pumla and me received loved from all directions this week, and I'm proud to say I'm becoming slightly less awkward at being on the receiving end of it.
So, here's to life, and to me for finally getting rid the training wheels!
- Trace
No comments:
Post a Comment