Wrote this on my 37th:

37,

37 huh? You were never supposed to be here this long. You had plans, dreams of either how you’d end it or how you’d make sure it ended. 18 was the limit. Then 21, then who knows. You got lazy, got comfortable. A few movies here and there about people who live forever and you got greedy. Now 37 years in, and you’re still poking around. Trying to make any given day worth it. Any thing you do have some sort of value to avoid the overwhelming urge to ship off, and the overbearing sense that it’s all closing in. Sticking meaning on every little thing like if enough things have meaning, you’d think it was all worth it. Just one more hit… one more toke of that sweet sweet valued action, and it’ll upend the cosmic scale of knowing that you’ve been a drain for your whole gorram life on everyone around you. That your closest friends are worse off for you being around and you delude yourself by saying you’re chemo- good in small doses- but deep down you know the truth, that you’re not chemo, you’re ingested bleach – not good in any amount. 

You went and had a kid, finding more joy and value in each day than ever before, but what’s stopping you from just rolling all your need for validation of sticking around on a kid? Or more accurately, is it fair to her? 

You… 37 years is far too many. You’ve stuck around past your expiration date and like old food you’re just gunna make people sick.

——-

It’s three in the morning on my birthday, and this is what I think every year. Why am I still here? What am I even doing? Why do I get breath when so many others don’t? Evan, Ben, Tim, Eric, Spencer, bob…. frik…. bob. In what world do I draw breath when that caliber of people shuffle off? It’s not right, not fair, and not what I’d want. The lanes should get a thousand lifetimes and I’m peddling around years past when I should have. I’m organizing stuff, settling in, making this place my own… 

37… here’s hoping, because it’s all I’ve got is a glimmer of hope that maybe by 38 I’ll be different – not just in my superficials, but maybe I’ll be a completely different person, one worth the time and drain I create on those around me.