The number comes barreling into you like a locomotive engine. 23. The figures are asymmentrical, the two a soft, delicious curve that sinuously wraps itself beside the more stable, rounded three that stands beside it like a pillow, like a lover's body waiting for a fuck.
It strikes me: I'm meant to be in this age. This is when things will happen. This is when skyrocketing is just another name for love, for movement, for living.
Last night, everything just swirled and coalesced into a perfect, livingandbreathing moment. Friends, all of them new, all of them beautiful in their laughter and insanity, rolling up and over the floor, like we were ten instead of in our twenties, thirties, married husbands and wives, all of us allowing something as simple as friendship, as being alone and unmoored in a place that we call/not-call "home" - it's just something I never thought I'd be experiencing.
And I'm happy.
Even without my family. Without my parents and siblings. Without my friends back at home.
And I wished for something that I was told I wanted to have, that I've been looking for. And perhaps I might get it. Who knows, right? The world is my oyster.
A birthday gift: my friends chipped in for this. A double-band of crystals, pink and purple, an expensive piece, I know, and there's a part of me that just blushed and wanted to hug everyone. (And I did.) Went home just as the sun was rising, the air cool and crisp and heavy with possibilities. Everything was just as they are.
This is a good birthday. ^_^