Every year, in the days preceding my birthday, something seems to come over me.
I feel compelled to live more out loud. Love deeper. Laugh harder. Have less inhibitions. Do more.
Although it's a week pretty close to any other, all of a sudden time feels more real. More finite.
Suddenly I'm hit with the fact that this is the last time ever I'll be able to be this age, whatever that age may be, which right now is 23.
I urgently feel like I have to cram as much life as possible in, so as to not miss a minute of it. Hoping somehow to hold on to familiarity as I dive into brand new. Wondering if I'm ready. Knowing that it's coming regardless.
It happens every year, and every year it still sneaks up on me.
A similar phenomenon happens around the turn of the new year, but really it's not the same. New Year's is everyone's new time. October 13-18th feels solely mine.
23 has been incredible, awesome, heart warming, and heart wrenching.
Going into 24, I hope I remember that life is too short not to love something every day. Whether that something is someone, what you do, or just yourself.
Mostly importantly yourself.
Cheers to reveling in the last few days of 23 and welcoming in 24.
And to living every week like it's birthday week.