The other day, my grandfather’s eyes widened so large when I brought up the big 2-5 that I thought his adorable eyes were actually going to fall out of his face.
In exactly one month and twelve days I will turn twenty-five.
“Are you putting yourself out there?”
You constantly wonder when you’re going to stop thinking so much about where you are going to be in ten years.
I don’t know what is the big fuss about turning a quarter year old and why people are making it as if it is some kind of mark or checkpoint in life.
Just because my body is turning into one of an adult’s does not mean my spirit has to, too.
I’m 25-years-old and, until this morning, I was having a quarter-life crisis.
Your 20s are hard. But that doesn’t mean they need to be a crisis.
The truth here is being at mid-20’s could definitely be amazing and terrifying at the same time.
But who can understand that when the person who’s been holding on for so long falls apart, they don’t fall slowly, they don’t fall in pieces, instead; they crash down rapidly in one piece paralyzing every little part of them.