I spent it being a coward. I spent it doing exactly what I've been doing for the past two decades. Being unsure. Being scared. I'm not afraid of growing old. I'm afraid of how young people would see me as. How frivolous. How immature.
I'd written something about the last few minutes of being 24, half spontaneous and half caffeinated, and could not bear the thought of posting it up. It was written off the top of my mind, which can usually pass off as what's in the deepest of heart. It feels too unmeasured, too callous, too reckless. What if I make a fool of myself? What if I make a fool of other people? I don't like consequences because I feel responsible for everything. I don't like spontaneity because I can't feel responsible.
But this wasn't what 24 taught me. 24 taught me to let go, to be free. 24 had me loosen my grip off the handles by the swimming pool, had me jump into the middle of the ocean to touch the fishes, had me drop my Baggages to embrace the one Happiness that til today, I know I do not deserve.
And today, I sit here in Starbucks with the person who can make me laugh the hardest and love the deepest, sharing a drink that I have never heard, and a song that's unfamiliarly soothing, and I'll say -
"25 can be the way the cookie crumbles". I have no idea what it means, but it's off the top of my head, and as 24 had taught me, that's all that matters.
