In the scheme of things, twenty-five is not a big number, or a particularly important number when it comes to age. It's not a multiple of ten, it's not a milestone like eighteen or twenty-one. And yet it still seems significant for me. It's a quarter of a century. It means I am as close to thirty as I am to twenty. And there is also the matter of my life expectancy, which is probably fifty by a generous estimate, and which I try not to think about too much.
I thought I would have everything figured out by this time. I thought I'd be married, engaged, or at least in a long-term relationship. I thought I'd be in graduate school with a clear career path. I thought I would have managed to condense and consolidate my life. At the very least, I thought I'd be more skilled at living. But I'm not. Now, I don't think I'll ever have anything figured out. In fact, I am quite confident of this.
I have no boyfriend, no career path, and I'm still chugging away at this undergraduate degree of mine. I am mostly okay with these things. However, I do not feel like I have made much progress in life recently. This saddens me.
I am sometimes, if not often, happy with my life. I try not to focus on the things I perceive as failures or tragedies, and I try to look towards a better, brighter, happier tomorrow.
I just hope tomorrow is a good day.