And there you go. 20.

Am I supposed to feel different somehow? Will I grow more strands of curling white hair? Will biological changes occur in increments beneath my skin, a sign that I have reached the so call ‘advanced’ age of twenty? Messages and birthday wishes are already coming in. And I am grateful to know that I am remembered.

It’s no different from any other day. But at the same time it is; it is different, and I have no words to explain why, why, why but that it simply is. It is a day; we are in constant growth every day. A birthday merely functions as a marker of comparison to previous birthdays to show how little or how far one has grown.

But objects, and I suppose days as well, hold meaning when we attach meaning and memories to it.