Tap tap tap.

Honestly, I can’t begin to imagine how it feels like to be 22 even though I am. If that makes sense.

I have good friends who are turning 26, friends working, friends engaged and friends married. All these are friends who I have grown up with. It’s a little scary.

I don’t think I’ve changed that much. Am I more mature than when I was 13? Looking back I’d say, yeah, the way I approach life has changed a little… a lot. But 13 year old Cass is still very much a part of me, so is 5 year old Cass who likes cartoons and 10 year old Cass who is insecure and unsure.

Do I have all the emotional strength and mental tools to deal with the future? Am I ready to make this world my own? I don’t know. Maybe I never will. Maybe the point is to accept that I’ll always be learning, always changing, and there’s no such thing as 100% mature and learned and done. The finish line is relative.

All in all I feel like I wasted my 21st year and I don’t like that feeling. I feel like there was so much I could have achieved and I didn’t. On the other hand, I needed that year of inertia, of confusion and misdirection to grow a little. I can look back now, a year later and pinpoint all the mistakes I made… and maybe my 22nd won’t go down the same way.

21 year old Cass was confoosed and lost and angst-y.

Who will 22 year old Cass be?