In one month, I will be 30. And I feel nothing. A friend of mine ever asked me, whether I am afraid walk to 30? At that moment, I told him, “No, I’m good.” And the other guy told me about my age, and laugh a lot while he knew about my age, he didn’t expect I say I am nearly 30. I wonder what’s so important of ages and being 30? What do people care too much if I’m going 30 or not.
But today, honestly I could say, yes, I quite think about it. 30 is not a small number, it’s mean you already quarter of 100 years. It’s mean you should already knew about many things. Indeed, now I consider I do. Last year, my day was spent with someone I can call a boyfriend. Even now I’m questioning the meaning about a boyfriend. Do I really need a boyfriend to make my birthday blast and fun? Can I just celebrate it as a single and be happy and proud about it?
Well, I was thinking positively before that I will celebrate my birthday with someone I love, a cute guy that will give me a birthday kiss. A bouquet of roses (yes, I’m that girl with fairy tales in mind) and maybe a cheerful wine to make the day sweeter. But now, looking back to what happened with me lately, I am surely can say, I am alone now. I feel nothing. Not happy nor afraid. It’s mostly like a plain feeling.
My best friend insist to make a party, my sister said wanna make a birthday tart for me, I am thankful for those people who love me, but still, I feel nothing. I never imagine in the age of 29, I will feel this kind of feeling exactly one year later. In my naive thinking, I thought I will be in other country as well now, the Windmill country and celebrate my birthday with the one I loved and his family. But who knows about the future now? I ever positively think, perhaps tomorrow is another day, another story, a miracle happen, that cute guy will be mine, and I just can spend all day cuddling in that manly arms.
But a year, in a year, anything can be happened and I really felt so many things. From the heaven to the dessert. From 100% sure to below zero in faith. From a box full of happiness which everyone look jealous of me, to a dark hole which everyone don’t want to be in. Well, in a year, I met so many guys who can teach me (or not) what love is. Or what lust is.
Now I wonder, what will happen in the next age I have? Will it be good? I don’t know. But one thing for sure, your skin is getting wrinkle no matter what.
Dea | November 28, 2012 | 7.10 pm