It’s crazy how I’m still a mushy potato of feelings.
In less than 12 hours, I’m turning 27 yet I still feel and think like the 14-year old me. Maybe I just look like an adult outside? Does everyone pretend to know everything? Am I the only one behind in this game?
Maybe what I’m trying to say is that, I still don’t understand me sometimes. This morning I stormed into my room and closed my door so damn hard and cried in my bed. Why? Because I’ve realized that nobody will be left tomorrow at home. It’s my day and I normally don’t want to celebrate or I hate it when people know about my birthday because it’s my brain saying I don’t deserve it and yet, now that I know that no one is spending it with me, I was like, whoa wait what?
The more I tell myself that I wanted isolation, I wanted that peace, that aloneness, the more I crave human affection.
I miss everyone.
I miss my papa, whom I only see every morning before he goes to work.
I miss my mama, her early morning routines.
I miss my siblings and how we ignore each other.
I miss my boyfriend and even though we call each other all the time, I still want to hug him and tell him I love him while looking into his eyes because I mean it.
I try to tell people around me that I care about them but I do it with my own love language.
I miss myself, too. I miss being me.
27, before I embrace you, please know that this 26 year old Raz is still a work in progress, please be gentle.