Life is fucking confusing, and every want comes with a doubt.
As far as I can tell, your 20s (I’m 27) are about cobbling together a life while wondering if you should blow it all up. And then someday, hopefully, you fall in love with yourself (or something) and that love becomes a foundation for everything else.
I know people who have built things up and torn them down, people who have made irrevocable choices, people who are coasting. I want all of their lives, sometimes, because I’m sick of the choices I made. I think that’s just fear of commitment, and not taking good care of myself—but who knows, maybe I’m about to make some choices for the plot.
The people who seem to have it all figured out may be crumbling beneath the surface (me irl). The ones I trust the most know how to look around and say “there but for the grace of god go I.” You‘re never too old to let whatever you’ve been collecting slip through your fingers and choose again.
