At 25

At twenty four I still feel like a complete child,

At a point where I can barely tell what point of life I’m really at.

I can however tell you for a fact that I’ve never felt like so much of a child ever before

Not even as an eight year old.

I have always been older than my peers in terms of behavior…

In terms of maturity.

In terms of being reserved.

Generally, you could just call me one with an old soul.

But here I am,

At twenty four point eight,

Almost 25.

But more than ever a child at heart.

I do not know at what exact point it started,

But somewhere along the way recently…

Suddenly I wasn’t obsessed with everything happening perfectly well at the perfect time.

Suddenly I did not mind being a little late,

To meetings, to the office, to parties.

The fact that I even show up to party…and actually enjoy it is stunning and foreign to me

But you have to be lost find direction sometimes.

And I’m writing again…

So I guess this is me finding my path again. The one I lost long before I became of age.

So at 25 I’m not a complete child,

At twenty five I have learnt to be happy.

At twenty five I have found me.

At 25 I have bloomed into the kind of flower  I never imagined me being,

A flower of a million beautiful colors.