I’ve been biking -slowly- up hills. At night when all of the grassy smells have had all day to sink into the concrete and fire hydrants and traffic lights. I’ve been moving and using my legs. I’ve been excited about doing cartwheels and throwing frisbees and sparkler twirling. I might even hula hoop. Hoola Hoop? Hooplahoop whoop. But I am also remembering I’m three ish months from 28 and I’m wondering when age became a measure by which I say that I can do things. I’m at this which-way point in life where I can’t figure out whether to look back behind me or pray for a peek into the every day a few years down the road. I have made peace with who I was. I miss my simplicity. I love where I am. I want to know where I’m going.
"it’s okay to miss the people who were bullets to you"