23 is such a big number, especially if you've had unrealistic expectations from yourself- when you've estimated to have already climbed a comfortable spot away from the novices in a corporate setting, when you've imagined yourself to be living on your earnings complete with a fat bank account, a pad of my own and a car to boot, when you've told yourself to have already started wedding plans and other whatnots.
Yes, 23 is a big number. Enormous. And just looming to uncomfortably near.
A couple of days from now, my eldest brother is going to celebrate his 27th birthday and I'm sorry that I couldn't possibly be physically present to celebrate such a feat with him. Five days after he celebrates his 27th birthday, I'll be turning 23.
I have no qualms with getting old. I do however have some rather unsavory thoughts of getting old without getting anywhere. At 23, I'll be nowhere near a comfy spot from the noobies in a corporate environment. Instead, I'll be assistant lecturer in the academic scene and a co-founder of a software company that specializes in cutting edge web based solutions. Both an incredible feat to some but when compared to the goals i set upon myself to achieve during my college years, way, way out of point. At 23, I'm living off my own salary in the sense that I get to pay rent, the association dues, the utility bills and a dsl subscription without asking for a cent from my parents but I am nowhere near having a fat bank account and a pad of my own. I have a car but technically speaking, it's a conjugal property with Cy so I wouldn't dare classify it as mine alone. And lastly, the plans of walking down the aisle are there but Cy and I have talked about saving up first despite questions of his family members about when the big date is finally going to pop up. I blush everytime. Cy grins everytime. But plans are not wedding plans until you get gowns fitted and menus ordered.
So here I am, days away from facing the day when I wake up and it'll be another whole year for me. And judging things based on my previous expectations, I am one utter failure. But unexpectedly, it doesn't bother me as much as the thought of getting and heading nowhere did in my college years. I have a dog that adores the path I walk on (not to mention my laundry basket and basically anything I leave lying on the floor), a loving and understanding family that misses me whenever I forget to phone home, an endearing bunch of soon to be in-laws who worry about me as much as my family does when I get sick, college and high school friends that keep in touch and of course, a love of a lifetime. For me there is one man and one earth and thus, I live only once. And if that doesn't count as something grand, then perhaps nothing ever will.