I still wake up (and fall asleep) every now and then a bit anxious, but for the most part, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm finally settling into something that I've been waiting for. I'm in my twenties.

Until now, I waited impatiently for an unspecified lifestyle. I was a walking time machine. I watched as my past, my childhood, played before my eyes day to day. I held my tongue while others around me treated me like a 14-year-old, a 17-year-old, a 19-year-old, when I knew that it didn't feel right.

I'm finally living in the present. I am who I always meant to be; I am now who I knew I would eventually become, completely; I look in the mirror and I know the person staring back at me.

If my twenty-somethings is the age that I was always meant to be -- if my twenty-somethings remains to be the age that I was meant to flourish and never waste -- then I'm glad that I've made every day count so far. Gotta keep going.

Make every day count.

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