I actually have curtains. Not sheets strategically placed over the windows to keep out the sun on a Saturday morning.

I have a set of twelve place settings. Plates. Bowls. Forks, knives, spoons and cups. All matching.

I have a car payment. a college diploma. a well paying job and a cat.

I have a ring on my left hand symbolizing something so infinite that I'm not even sure I can fully grasp the concept.

And yet, the more I grow up; the more I look back. Does this ever stop?

.then. .now.