Twenty-one. And I feel old. Every time I see students in their school uniform, I feel a lot older. I see my grade school Alma Mater every working day and I feel old. I realize that I already am working, I feel real old. I see any of my siblings growing, I am old.
Some may say I've missed a part, or maybe a lot, of a post-teen-pre-adult life. The partying 'til dawn, drunk-dancing, drunk-driving, smoking weed, boyfriend cuddles, romantic shizz, and a whole lot more of what you may call fun. Yes I didn't get to experience them. I am boring, I know it, and I admit it.
But I'm not because I chose to spend more of my precious time with my real friends (I'm clingy) and my family (a lot more clingy). I prefer intimacy: long talks with anyone from the family, tea time with my sister or my best friend, a walk with myself along the streets of the city, a visit at an old friend's house, or just hangout with the few close friends that I have. These are a few, yet the best, things that make me happy and say that I'm young. Young for not having experienced what most of my age have had.
And I guess I'll be staying young for a while. Maybe, forever.
I see me wearing lipstick. Damn, I'm old.
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