You are 25.

  you’re 25 and your home smells like you don’t quite know what you want out of life. you’re 25 and you’re saying, “i’m fine” to no one in particular, because there’s no one around to ask. you’re 25 and you’ve spent half your life listening to your own pulse, making sure you were still alive. you’re 25, but you don’t feel 25, you feel 105, you feel stuck and lost at the same time; you feel trapped, but also petrified, because the thought of freedom scares you. you’re 25 and it feels  ...

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