We were in our early twenties. So you
were still young enough to be arrogant,
to think you can know-it-all
or piece it all together by
age “fill in the blank.”
(This will be the first disappointment).
You were idolizing the 30 plus crowd,
projecting success fantasies onto
Meanwhile I never outgrew those
rough lines around the edges,
and suspected no one else really does either.
What they didn’t tell us was what mattered:
they were just as lost as we were, just better
at not being the adult image their own
parents lied about. And how twenty-five
was not a three piece suit
(even when we’re trying to feel comfortable
in a three piece suit), but figuring out
that we would never have it all figured out after all.
You moved out west since then, and I’ve
grown comfortable in a disheveled jacket.
I wonder if you and your fake law school friends
would like my crowd.
Or, did you start asking, “what’s your baggage?”
while realizing your own unkempt pieces?
Also, isn’t this view beautiful, and are
your shoulders lighter because of it?
Note: More of a reflection as I celebrate my 28th birthday.