It's just barely after midnight, and although I was born at three in the afternoon I think that technically to the rest of the world I am 21. I could be out in pub right now, but instead I am dancing to this song in my bedroom:
Nobody Knows The Trouble Ive Seen - Sam Cooke
I am wearing my mans shirt and some skinny jeans and thinking how good my outfit would look with those black and white Jeffrey Campbell oxfords I saw (birthday present anyone? Maybe I will buy them for myself). It's funny because I usually this song as slow and sad, but tonight my dancing is jubilant.
Sam Cooke's soulful voice brings a kind of hope to this song that embodies my feelings tonight. Truly, no one "knows" the trouble I've seen in the last 21 years. I am sure I have not faced the least or the most trouble in my life, but these trouble are uniquely my own. I have obvious flaws as well as secret sorrows that I haven't told anyone about, but I love when he sings "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah" as if through all this trial he is still praising the lord. And tonight I had a great talk with my dad that reminded me how much I want to have spirit with me constantly. I also thought a lot about things that have happened in my life and the milestones in my life that aren't counted in days.
This talk ended with a sickeningly picture perfect moment where Dad tilted my head onto his shoulder and a single tear rolled from the corner my eye. It almost seems foreboding. After dancing in my room my sister pushed open the door to my room and said, "Only 81 years left..."
(This was with the presupposition that I will live to 100, and yes the math on that was off.)
--Kirs
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