Friday, 9 May 2014

Turning 21 getting old

I always appreciate the blossom trees when they bloom, and they last such a short time, barely even a fortnight that one can't help but savour every moment of them. They seemed to last an even shorter time this year, and as soon as the petals fell it seemed the lilac sprung into bloom to replace it. I love the smell of lilac, patches of purple splashing around up random front yard fences. It's already May. University has ended not just for summer but forever. I feel a tad lost because I have no job to walk into, but hopefully this won't last long. It's my birthday in a few weeks time and I'm dreading it, less than last year but it's still bothering me. I always said I wasn't afraid of death, being a believer of the afterlife. But I'm afraid of getting old. I'm afraid of those two fine wrinkles beneath my eyes kind people call laughter lines but I call them proof of deteriation. Mr Jones and I have been together a little over a year now and I wonder how long it will be before he looks at my face with the memory of our first meeting and thinks Christ, her youthful bloom has well and truly faded. I've never been a vain person, I've never liked my looks but I appreciate that I am young with a decent complexion, it won't be more than a few blinks and a few sleeps before my youth has tumbled away just like those sodding blossom petals. When I was 14 people always thought I was 17-18. It was always cool, looking older, and now I feel like a fool for ever thinking it was a good trait. I am going to be 21 in a few weeks, that's not even ten years from 30. I have wondered more than once if I had children or even a house or something of substance in my life would I feel differently about the coming of age. I feel like times soaring past and I have nothing much to show for my existence. I've spent 21 years never stepping off English soil. Now that's rather miserble. I'm dwelling. This is all because of uni finishing I'm sure. In the same month as my birthday. My childhood is well and truly over. I can't even remember the last time I blew candles out on a birthday cake. It's a shame we can't wish to be forever young. I'm turning into bloody Dorian Grey 

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