Wide awake at 5am and my head is swimming in all sorts of list and thoughts. I scurry my way to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face just to shake myself out of the ongoing tread; sometimes with a good grasp of my breathing and others on the brink of a break down.
Why do I undergo so much pressure?
What’s the deal with being so caught up in trends and factoring a portion of myself into a society that merely gives a shit about quality?
Why does any of this matter and why am I up at 5am caving into my own thoughts?
D’ana, just stop. Right now. Stop and go back to sleep.
With barely any energy, I zombie my way back to bed and tightly wrap myself in the sheets and start to count backwards. As light as the days of being a kid pondering what 25 would be like, I drift willingly into a corner that welcomes me with open arms.
It smells like yesterday and sings softly as it grabs onto me, swallows me whole and before the world knows it; I’m gone.
At 7:01 my alarm goes off and I play a game of wack-a-mole before I find my phone to silence the alarm, I cringe at the thought that my day is just beginning with no clue on what to wear.
This is 25, my friend. You worry your closet might not have room for your pity
with jeans too tight.