Today is my 23rd birthday. I know there is nothing special about 23. I mean at 20 I left my teenage years behind. At 21 I was legal to drink and gamble and other sorts of ‘freedoms’ our country gives. At 22 I was the age I should be when I graduate college, which I haven’t yet so that one wasn’t as cool as it sounds. At 23 nothing. No special landmarks, no car insurance breaks, nothing.
Except this year.
23 is 11 and a half times 2. Which means eleven and a half years ago I was eleven and a half years old. Which means basically nothing to most people. Except me. I was eleven and a half when Sethie was taken away. This feels weird and sad to me, because this year at 23 years old I am crossing the threshold that which I have lived longer without my brother than I did with him. I know most people wouldn’t even notice, but I’m a weirdo when it comes to numbers and detail.
Please don’t feel sorry and sympathize, I just wanted to share the emotions and thoughts going through my head, which I can’t really put into words, because these aren’t things we are used to going through and dealing with. So lately I feel pain, and heartache, and love, and compassion, and loss, and other things I can’t really put into words because I am better at just feeling, and not so great at describing.
Hello strange strange world that is unfathomable and mysterious and so painful and wonderful all at the same time.