The Breakup | March 15, 2017

twenty—became a delta. twenty one—became miss morgan. twenty two—graduated from undergraduate school. twenty seven—received my masters. twenty nine—relocated to the midwest. my twenties, i traveled the world. those were some of the many memories i couldn’t let go. i couldn’t believe that ten years had pass me by. how come i didn’t seize the moment? how did i become thirty? thirty. thirteee. just like that? no way. unbelievable. unlike my friends, i was scared of being here.   how do you happily welcome a decade that you knew nothing about? they were crazy. not me. was i suppose to just transition into this unknown world peacefully. thirty? what in the world? what was that? that’s old. we were now old as crap. cougars. living and breathing grannies. dramatic? no i wasn’t. i just couldn’t fathom that i was thirty. where the heck did time go?! [sigh] all I simply wanted was to just relive my twenties. i didn’t want to let go.

[These are my open notes. Over the next month, I am making them public until my birthday on April 14th. Next up, denial & isolation.]

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