This Is 27

I went to a bar last night

A bar I used to go to when I was 22

When I could hide behind my college boyfriend,

to escape the wandering hands of waning youth

And we’d meet his friends in Columbia Heights and take the metro to save money

When pre-gaming a bar was a weekend occurrence

And I drank vodka sodas, not for the taste but to tamper down the roars of my soul

Because it spoke so strongly

And I had yet to realize being desired would not cure the dizziness in my mind.

I still don’t know why I’m here, but I do know stuffing my sanctuary with shiny things will not make me better

Than him,

Than you,

Than the man on the streets

Or the distraction in my sheets,

I do know;

I am warrior,

I am a light,

and I will always be more of a Manhattan maiden; sipping slowly, sweetly around the company of spirits.

When you’re 22, you think your first love will be your only love.

And that craft beers are a right of passage.

And having money for brunch is the epitome of a good weekend.

But your 20’s provide you with lessons.

A crumpled map that’s fucking hard to read, but you will learn

Food cooked at home tastes like maturity

And too many craft beer will make you fat.

But mostly, you will learn

that there was nothing to loose, all along, only a second self to be found; within.

Sometimes the path of a pondering mind is lonely, but I trust my patience will provide a paradise.

A promise land of perspective

And not a purgatory of pumpkin beer

Last night I stepped back in time, just in time; to feel thankful for 27.