Today is my 25th birthday.
I'm lying in an empty bed surrounded by empty bookshelves. I've never seen so many empty hangers in my closet.
Normally I'm the type of person that goes all out for birthdays, that does birthday week. Today, but for the constant facebook notifications, I could barely remember that it was mine. I just wanted to be left to quietly dismantle my life in peace.
I am excited about moving, but I've been going going going and I just feel like a huge weight will be lifted off my shoulders when the books are shipped, the clothing is sorted, gotten rid of and packed and the same has been done to the kitchen. I'm exhausted and anxious. I am not good company.
And I broke someone's heart this week. It's hard to feel like you deserve a birthday when you've recently broken someone's heart.
I'm terrified, excited, anxious and sad. And it's really hard to sleep.
Hello, twenty five.