22

It’s the 4th of December, 2017

I’m on the train headed home. The sun is setting as we approach the tunnel leading to Beacon Hill Station. The buildings and trees dotting the distant hills are embraced by the orange glow (almost a lovely brown). There is a sort of solemn reality hung on the air, wreathing the bare winter trees backlit by the pinks and purples of the late afternoon sky. 

Today I turned 22. 

Another number that embodies my life in years. What have I learned in the past 1 year? What have I lost? I think somewhere along the line, it all starts to blur in together. An entire year, for you, is summed up by a single event- a moment. And at the very end of it all, you are reminded how short-lived it is. You're 11 years old, it’s morning and you’re reading a Magic Tree House book, light is filtering through the drapes casting mysterious shapes across the silent living room. Before you know it, you’re on a train headed home from college, the chaos of finals and responsibilities dawning on you. It’s getting dark and city lights are shining in the distance. 

You're 22.