I feel old…

I feel old.

Not like I’m dying or past my prime but more like I’ve earned more years than I’ve actually experienced. As if all the stupid mistakes, odd happenings and general day-to-day has taken a larger toll than it should.

I’ve said, in the past, that giving up or reordering your dreams, big or small, takes a lot of work and the realization that you’re having to do that is even harder. I mean, I’m smart enough to know that those dreams will never happen, can never happen, but my soul is having a hard time dealing with the letting go. How does one let go when the dream is all she has left of what she once was? How do you let go of the ideals and dreams that are you?

Knowing that this, what’s available right this moment, is all there is can be both satisfying (freeing?) and yet constrictive and disheartening.

What does the soul do when it really ceases to believe in anything? Is that when we die? Is that when we become burnt out on life and turn the keys over to a new set of hopeful, fresh-faced youth? Is that when we become old?

If that is the case, then I feel the weight of experience and letdown pressing upon me like the weight of a thousand years. I’m ready to turn this bitch over to someone new, someone who feels meaningful…

I feel old.

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