Dear Twenties

Photo by Johannes W on Unsplash

Dear Twenties, 

That was a lot of fun, wasn’t it? Did you enjoy yourself? Did you live for the moment enough? Well, I’m happy for you, truly I am. I suppose I wish you had been a little more considerate about those of us in your 30s. Maybe you could have figured yourself out more by now. Maybe you could have chosen a place to live that had a bed and didn’t leak every time there’s a little rain. 

Thinking ahead was never really your style, though, and I wouldn’t have done half the things or had half the experiences without you. Because of you I can speak some broken Cantonese, I can say I was a professional author for a while, you kept a record of the most important times of my adult life, gave me two degrees, and a website. You survived two hurricanes and began your pursuit of writing as a career. You also found a place to share my daft poetry from time to time, and the first person you met there became your girlfriend! An excellent girlfriend I might add, you both have great taste. 

But despite all of that – I don’t mean for this to sound accusatory – I can’t help but feel that you’ve let me down somewhat. You’ve settled us into a rhythm that I’m finding hard to shake, you never decided if you could make it on your own merits, so you dithered, and now you’ve handed me an increasingly long-term short-term job that I take no pride in. You've left me with no money either. 

No, I didn’t get that photography book published. I sang once when I was drunk and that’s all for this year. I did keep exercising, there’s even some definition in your abs now. No, I still haven’t got over my rejection from Larian Studios, and I’m not sure I ever will. Mum and Dad are fine, thanks. Socks made it another year, but Hector’s legs finally gave out, and he had to be put down. You didn’t see him again before it happened, but you did get a bereavement card from the vet. As of right now, there’s been no progress with your sister. You still find it difficult to say her name. You’ve recently made a lot of progress with your novel. You're about halfway through the first draft now, and Victoria likes it at least. 

You told me not to regret what you did, and I appreciate that. Sometimes I forget. Thank you for reminding me of what I want to do with my life Sometimes I get caught up with comparisons and make myself sad, like I’m failing because I’m not a billionaire yet, because I haven’t bought Mum her rose garden. I’ll try to justify your faith in me. I don’t know what’ll be in store for me now, and I have no idea what 40 will look like. Maybe I’ve died in WWIII already, or maybe I’ll get angry and go into politics. I suppose I’ll see 40 next, so I’ll let you know. 

In the meantime, why don’t you take a rest? I’ll take over for the next decade, don’t worry. If I do half the things you did, and maybe gain some financial security too, it will have all been worth it. 

I have to pick up the last part of the bed now, so I've got to go. Despite the negatives, I’m proud of you too. I love you, Alex. Thank you for giving me everything I have. Until next time.

With all my tears,  

30.