18

18 year ago, I came into the world. I took a breath, I opened my eyes, I cried.

19 years ago, I didn't exist.

18 years ago, I was. I was an entity. I began taking up space. I had a heartbeat and fingers and toenails. My parents were happy that I was, I think. I like to think that they were happy that I began being. Sometimes I wonder what they really think.

18 years of living have passed me, have settled into the corners of my brain. Memories sit within it, collecting dust, or are beginning to wear out from being overplayed. What will be left of them 18 years from now? Will they have settled? Will I have let them go? Will I have forgiven them or forgotten them? Will I have thrown them away to make more space?

3 years ago, I was not who I am now. I didn't know anything. I was the shell of a person, the idea of what someone should be, but I was never really anything. 3 years from now, where will I be? I will not be who I am now. I will look back on 18 year old me and say, "You fool, you don't know anything."

I have 18 years today, and I am tired of sitting and idly watching the world pass me by. In the next 18 years, I want to make a difference. I want to be a part of the commotion, I want to jump in and make a change. I want to help, I want to be a piece of something. I want to feel proud of my accomplishments. I want to look back on 36 years of life and say, "Okay, I've done something". I want to learn what it is to be content.

Happy birthday to me.

Happy birthday to me.

Happy birthday dear Andrea.

Happy birthday to me.