wrinkles.

Maybe it’s because I’m older and wiser, but I’ve noticed that the things which now bring me to tears are fewer the everyday instances of hurt, pain and sadness, but more the unexpected moments of joy, reconciliations and serendipity. Maybe as we advance in years and become more numbed to experiences of tragedy we become more easily moved to tears by the sudden simple beauties that were always before us but appeared at an untimely early age when we still believed the world owed us more.
All I know is the less time I have left here the more important I find it is to plan a clean exit on a high note.
This small epiphany and the wrinkles are how I know for certain that I’ve finally grown up.