March 14 2029 - Rachel Young

(Carissa and I wrote about the same idea with our own personal takes on it. Read her post too if you haven't to compare its pretty cool)

It is March 14, 2029. 7:15 pm. The clicks of a keyboard under my fingertips slow as the dusk settles, late winter grays and blues sweeping away the once lilac sky. The night is coming to its impending lull, or however much of a lull you can get in the busy streets of Brooklyn. I breathe deeply, a weary sigh escaping my lips.
It is my 26th birthday. Time sure has passed.
I close the laptop and square it away in my desk, polished metal and glass nestled in the corner of a studio apartment. Its quiet, save for the voices of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald spilling out of the speaker on the coffee table.
The volume is low. Soft.
Warmth fills the room.
These past years have been full. That's the only way I can think to describe it as I make my way over to the teapot, full. Of life, love, joy, and sadness, I made friends and lost others. I got my degree, in fine arts and biology, and moved to the city I fell in love with as a girl. I rub my temples with both hands as a white mug steeps on the granite counter top. These past years have been hell, but I finally feel like I'm going somewhere in life. I look back at the desk, cluttered with sketches, books, and plants. Work never stops, I guess. Even on my birthday.

My phone buzzes, and I expect another birthday wish from a distant relative. But to my surprise, its a boy that had caught my eye not too long ago. I almost jump at the message, eager, but I stop myself with a lingering hand. I've been here before. I know how this will end. Detached satisfaction and eventual heartbreak.
Its funny how little things have changed.

I don't pity myself for being alone, no. There's a freedom that comes with not being tied down, not belonging to a single soul but my own.

And so I trade my phone, messages unopened, for a cup of tea and a peace of mind.

I push back white curtains and slide open a tall glass door, bare feet stepping onto the cold stone of the rooftop patio. The bite of the ground means nothing in the presence of the open night sky. The stars are bright, white specks pulsing against stark black, dulled only by the lethargic streetlamps of the city beyond and the soft lantern lights strung from the furniture throughout my quiet space. Its moments like these that allow me to forget the hysteria. The questions. The longing. I don't have to wonder how my parents are doing, what they think of me. Are they proud?

I realize there's no point in asking questions with fruitless answers.

Anxieties of hypotheticals and stress of the past melt away into the cold night air. Despite my regrets, despite my defeats and mistakes, I know that in this moment I am where I should be. Where I need to be.
Newly 26. Old, but just beginning. Alone yet surrounded by opportunity.

With breath collecting in dense clouds in front of my face, I look up once again to the sky; soulful harmonies resonate from behind the closed door.
In that moment I find peace. After everything, I know now that I am free.

Finally I am free.