And this is my 100th post.
I know I think this every year for every age, but I don't know what twenty-four is supposed to feel like. So far, it's better than twenty-three. So far, it's different.
Twenty-three gave me these gifts:
Two road trips
The Avett Brothers
Surgery
Eight bloody months. (Gross, I know.)
Hashimoto's Thyroiditis
New Year's Day
Hives
Loneliness
Marita (Although, I suppose that was 22)
An AmeriCorps position
Sadness
Acceptance
Celexa
Self-Reliance
Justin and Natalie
A boyfriend
Zombieland
Visits from Triina
Twenty-three was a bitter sweet year. My birthday party was a concert. I fear that most of the people at that party are people I may never see again. But that's growing up, isn't it?
Twenty-Four has given me these gifts so far:
No cold until after my birthday
A growing support system
A boyfriend's parents
Potential road trips
Two upcoming Avett Brothers shows
A visit to come from Stephanie and my sister
A growing like for Phoenix
People who let me down less than I let myself down.
I know I have more to learn and experience. I'm aware of that. But Twenty-Four has so much more promise than Twenty-Three ever did. Shortly before leaving Kalamazoo, I took an informal survey of about ten people. All of them said that twenty-three was a bad year. In no way am I glad to hear that I'm not the only one.
Dear friends,
I still miss you.
-Theresa
