Time is weird. Age is too. I just realized today is my birthday. The number insinuates that I am old, but I do not feel old at all. Maybe my idea of time and age is incorrect. Maybe my expectations on what my years should have included differ from reality so much I do not feel my age. However, there are days I feel twice my age.
It is poisonous, I know, but parallel to me on a non-interrupted track runs a version of me that has not had any of the difficulties that I have had. No deaths and no sickness, no abandonment and no depression, no scattered self-esteem and self-confidence. She has been what I have not, and she is what I am not. She is a fantasy. She is not me and I will never be her. In her presence I can only see the divergence, the gap between us I have to fill with accomplishments to reach her. No matter how I try she is always ahead of me.
Why do I allow her to be around? What does she provide? Who would I be without her? My predetermined idea of who I should have been, should be and become compresses me. It is time to let her go.