A Blast from the Past

It's so hard to come to grips with the idea that I'm almost the big 3-0.

I've still got a year and a half left of my 20s, and though I don't feel my age, and people always mistake me for someone much younger than my 28 years; there are times when I'm given a visual aid of just how old I really am.

I was at Walmart yesterday when I was hit with a blast from the past. And quite a blast it was... I ran into a guy I'd had an intense crush on 10 years ago. I was barely 18, a Freshman in college and thought he was exactly what I wanted in a man; good-looking, good dresser, carefree and relaxed.

Standing there with my cart yesterday, I was speechless with shock. Judging by his silence, I imagine that he was speechless with shock, too.

The fact sunk in that it'd been 10 years since I last saw this man. Though I was 18 at the time, he was well over 21, and graduating from college while I was just barely starting. It hit me that not only am I older than I was back then, but he's older than he was back then, and still older than me. It hit me that he's well into his 30s.

In place of what I remembered to be a flat stomach, there was a belly. In place of a chiseled and handsome face, I saw the face of an aged, overweight man; still handsome, but not as handsome as I remembered.

Yesterday's incident made me feel two things:

1. I'm old,
and
2. I'm so old, my past crushes are entering the balding and belly years.

The good news is that though I'm very aware of my age, I still don't feel it.