Something I've always liked to do is to stare at the wall and/or ceiling for long periods of time and think about absolutely nothing. It's therapeutic, and usually, it works. But if I have someone on my mind, I will undoubtedly use that time to think about them -- a pleasure which I deny myself of during the day. (And this is why you'll usually see my blogs being posted at night.)
So I place my hand on the wall and his face briefly pops up in my mind. But then I suddenly snap back to reality. Why? Because when I was younger and in love, I used to mindlessly draw hearts with my fingers on the walls as I talked to the person I loved on the phone, or simply thought about them. When did I stop doing that? When did love suddenly stop being about hearts and idealistic futures and start being an actual question of what I should do here and now? When did it become more of a reality than a dream? When the heck did I start growing up and getting real? I mean, I'm not exactly doing anything about these feelings I have for him. So when did my life and my feelings for people become so...serious?
Maybe this is what it means to be 20.
But, regardless, I am happy. For me, it's not only a weird concept to grasp, but it's also totally unheard of. But despite all of this cloud-chasing and occasional frustration with myself, I'm having a rockin' time just being me. Wow. I am happy.