All These Lines On My Face

When I was a little girl, forever seemed such a long time. Infinite. Boundless. Inexhaustible. Limitless. On and on and on and on and on.

For.

Ever.

At 15 I remember giving birth to my oldest child and counting how old I would be when she turned 18. I figured being in my thirties wasn't going to be such a big deal because they were so FARRRRRR away.

At 29 I was having the best year of my life, not only did I feel alive but I looked great. I was actually happy for that year.

At 35 I realized my oldest had turned 18 already and Jesus Fucking Christ did that time fly by. I also found my first gray hair (which I quickly plucked). I was on the down slope to the big 4 0!

Now I am 43 and these days, when I'm not such a little girl, forever feels less tenuous, its end still not finite, still ambiguous, and yet close enough that when the wind is right, I can feel its whisper on my neck.

I am what I call half over. My life has been almost half lived. Does this mean the next 43 years are going to fly by? Will I get to actually see them before they are gone? I sure the hell hope so!

What a strange narrowness of mind now is that,
to think the things we have not known are better
than the things we have known.
~ Samuel Johnson