29¾. That’s exactly how old I am today. Three-quarters into the final year of my 20s. One of my bestest told me she thought we were too old to fractionalise our ages. I told her I prefer it. I joked that it helps negate the years that come before. I like being twenty-nine though, I’m sure many people enjoy being twenty-nine – again and again. I like it despite what comes next.  I’m quite happy to be turning the “Big 3-0”.

I think partly that’s because I didn’t think I’d get there. It’s not because I harboured hopes for an early demise, far from it. I just always thought that if I did get there, I wouldn’t last for too much longer. I didn’t mind getting old, I know that it’s a privilege denied to many. I simply couldn’t see myself getting past that age. I’m still not sure that I do, but I certainly hope so.

Of my years I have one regret. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred if you offered me a trip in a Deloreon I would turn you down. I cannot guarantee that my life would be as it is had I not made the choices I have, and I believe that my life is currently what it needs to be. Still there is that one moment, that one time in a hundred, where –  if I could, I would like to see if it could have turned out differently. One moment I’d consider risking today for.

I have been a great many things to many different people. Not all of them fun, but perhaps necessary. Today I am me again. It’s only recently that I’ve started to feel that. Yesterday I said the words that confirmed I’m back. When others know of my choice I know that they’ll question it but I could never do sustained happiness, it’s not who I am. Even when the scales are pushed in my favour, I can’t. I have learnt that I require balance. I begin to see too darkly without it. When there’s a part missing, you need to replace it. I’m better this way.

The years have been unexpected, in the best possible way. I don’t think I could have predicted a single moment, I know given the choice I probably wouldn’t have chosen them. Sometimes it’s better that those decisions are out of your hands. The final stretch, almost certain to be as much of an adventure as the rest of it has been. Though I believe tomorrow is promised to no one, I still find myself smiling at the possibility.

Twenty-nine years…and three quarters. Wow. I made it.

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