Reason, Season, or Lifetime

No one ever thinks about how long life really is. Every morning when you wake, you have 86400 seconds with which to work. You can do anything you want 86400 times! Meet new people, go new places, see new things. Anything.

31.5 million opportunities in a year to change your mind. And sometimes, you do.

I grew up way too fast. And now, at the ripe old age of 27, I feel like an old maid.

On more than one occasion, I have looked around me and wondered whose life I was living because surely, I would have made better choices. Regardless of where I thought I would be by now, I am where I am. And I am who I am. And who I am changes 86400 times every day.


I guess my question is: How do you tell people that you've changed? Should you?

I don't know what to do here. There are so many people that I can no longer find room for in my life. There's the guy who lied. But that's not new to me. What was new was the feeling that I deserved better than him. How am I supposed to goodbye to him? I've never done it before without an argument. The screaming and the yelling, the cursing and the blame. Those are my old normal. But they don't fit the new me.

The friends that I used to get in trouble with. How do I say that I don't do trouble anymore? They want to see me and I'm running out of excuses. All I really have are reasons. We are no longer alike and thus, there's no room in my life for them anymore. But I can't say that. Can I?

And what about the other people in my life? The ones that I never truly fit but I forced anyway?

I spent years feeling like a lost puzzle piece. Like something was wrong with me because I had this wonky corner. And there was always someone, their puzzle having a few missing pieces, that was more than willing to let me wiggle in and see if I fit.

You've been there before. You have that one weirdly shaped puzzle piece that has the right coloring and would fit perfectly if it weren't for that wonky corner. I have a wonky corner. And I pressed and pressed myself into other people's puzzles while knowing deep down that I didn't fit.

But I've started to accept my wonky corner and to love it because it makes me special. And as hard as it is, I'm pulling free from other people's puzzles. It's hard. I'm a little battered and bruised. A little bent and torn. But I'm still me. I'm still a little wonky. And I'm finally OK with it.

pic found here