035 - +1

In 20 minutes I will be 19

19 is such an odd number. It feels like the place between complete adulthood and childhood, the last year as a teenager. Still though, I feel…somehow like a grown up. Not as if I feel all of a sudden responsible for myself and whatnot, but more I feel like I’m in that one place where I’m growing to be more of a real person and less of a ‘college student’.

I definitely grew up too fast. 19 should still be irresponsible, I should be getting tanked for my birthday but instead I still don’t drink and I still don’t womanize and I still don’t party at every chance I get. I should not be holding philosophical conversations with myself and writing blog entries as I wait for my birthday to arrive, sitting in the foyer of Heritage Hall instead of my apartment where there is a party for someone else. I should have told everyone about my birthday and expected a giant bash or surprise instead of hiding it from my friends and anticipating a 24 hour dash to avoid the subject if it comes up.

I really don’t like celebrating my birthday. I just don’t.

Ten more minutes.

I spent my last birthday writing a paper and I kind of thought that would happen this year. Actually, I'm pretty sure it will. I wonder whether this want for nothing special on my birthday is just a guise for the inner child who wants a cake and a party with presents and friends. I lost that image of a birthday for myself a long time ago...back when I didn't have friends to bring presents or share cake with. I wonder whether I don't like birthdays because of the false ring they have. You celebrate someone because they were born. You celebrate them because their mother went through hours and hours of labor so you could step into the doctor's arms and be a person. You give them praise and they thank you and there is eternal happiness in this one 24 hour period simply because a person exists.

It's funny though because when other people have birthdays it seems perfectly natural for me to do something for them. Maybe I just don't like being in that situation.

Five minutes.

Did I grow up too fast? Or are my contemporaries just too young? I'm younger than all of my friends yet many say I'm the most mature, most "stable", whatever that means. Am I just a good actor? I am very unstable inside and I wonder whether I present myself as too stable for what I actually am. Will I grow up to be an old man alone because I feel too mature? Will I be the guy who never changes because he believes he has moved too far to be himself?

I'm 19 years old as of 4 minutes from now and I don't know how to react to that. I'm another day older, another year older, another increment of time that has added to my store of knowledge and my horrible short term memory. This shouldn't be a big deal. It really shouldn't. It should just feel like any other day, but instead I'm avoiding my friends and instead I'm out alone and instead I'm lying to people about my whereabout just in case the question comes up as to how old I really am at the moment.

Two minutes.

Am I alone in thinking this? Am I just acting out of inability to do what normal people do?

One minute.

This really shouldn't be a big deal. It really shouldn't. I should not be worried about this, I should not be freaking out, I should just be accepting it. If it really weren't a big deal to me, that is, if my birthday wasn't a big deal I wouldn't have devoted an entire blog entry to it.

But I did.

Happy birthday.