What is it about being 22? 22 has a terrible edge to it. The seeds of doubt that turning 21 planted, begin to sprout sometime in your 22nd year – doubt that you can do this “adult” thing, doubt that you can do anything.
For some strange reason 22 is the age it begins to bother you that nothing happened or, perhaps, will happen the way they said it would. The dreams you always figured you would have time to achieve, well, you still have time to achieve them, but this side of 22 you know the truth. They were only ever dreams. They were spoon-fed clichés by childhood teachers and nurtured by godparents carrying warm quotes about success and potential alike.
But now you know. You will never study abroad. You probably won’t even finish college. You will never live in that big house whose picture you cut out of that magazine. You can barely picture a world where you can afford an apartment without a roommate. Things can get better, but they will never be as good as you imagined when you were 8. They won’t even be as good as you reasoned when you were 20. You will work through life. You will settle in romance, but perhaps one day convince yourself that you really are in love. You will always wonder when the change took place – what was the event that set you on the path that separated you from the life you’d planned for yourself? Maybe, you’ll think to yourself in 20 years, I shouldn’t have given up when I was 22.