Birthday blues

I’m turning 20 this Tuesday.

I still have no idea of whatever I achieved in my twenty years of existence aside from:
a. getting awarded for “honors in deportment” back in Grade 2.
b. winning the Spelling Quiz Bee championship back in Grade 5.
c. becoming Managing Editor for Internal Affairs of UNO-R’s student publication, Tolentine Star.
d. becoming Dean’s Lister in the College of Education at UNO-R twice.
e. winning 2nd place in Editorial Writing during the COPRE last year.
f. overcoming cerebral palsy to some extent.
g. learning to handle rejection from people.
h. learning to mingle and socialize with people (as well as isolate myself when necessary).
i. being still in a “never-been-touched, never-been-kissed” state. (In short, a virgin)

Apparently, these things only have meaning when put in my personal context. These mean NOTHING, if not less, for other people. I’m the one who lives my life and fights my struggles after all, and not those other people.

I’ll be 20 years old by Tuesday. I’m no longer supposed to be a child or a teenager. I still have a lot to learn. I still have more truths to seek and meanings to discover.

I have some hesitations about reaching the big *two-zero* marker. I feel a cringing nostalgia of missing my childhood (both actual and extended) and I have hesitations about growing up. I’m still uncertain about the future and I fear of the harsh realities that the future holds. I’m afraid of suffering the future’s tears, toils and pains.

But people usually fear what they don’t understand and what does not kill them, may make them stronger.

It’s a dilemma. I have to live with it (and through it, if I can).

For now, I’ll just console  myself by listening to the song “20″ by Travis.