The clock struck 4:10am, and suddenly I am 21.
I felt a sudden thug in my stomach as if I swallowed a live gnome. I felt my gag reflex acting on me. I felt sick. And I am 21.
I thought I'd be 20 forever. I don't know. The idea of being 21 did not cross my mind until I realized that I cannot stop time. I thought I could be infinite, endless, limitless, 20 ever and ever. Until time has decided upon me. It was a bit heartbreaking.
I liked being 20. I was not too young and not too old. Just right, I guess. Twenty was the right age for me. It was full of angst, chaos, drama, and other shit I would rather not discuss now. It was a different kind of ride. Too much had happened. My ideals were shattered, my heart was broken (by different circumstances and people), my morals got twisted, and my dreams were... Well, I cannot remember where they went.
I liked being 20. I can get away from almost everything--from social responsibilities to personal ones. I can blame my age. I can blame anything, but I did not. Being 20 was more of an adolescent age for me than adulthood in a lot of aspects of my (non)existence. For one, I have committed a lot of risky behaviors (which I would rather not specify here) in a span of one year. Then, I was attacked (yes, the term is attacked) by human emotions--from lust to lovefrom helplessness to nirvana. I had too much of everything to the point that I intentionally forgot most of it. And then, nothingness.
I liked being 20. I wanted to stay 20 forever, but time has decided. It cannot be helped. Now, I am 21 and I am still as lost as I was when I was 20.
