I feel so aged

 In reality I feel like I'm either wavering or living on both ends of any given spectrum.

I just feel so aged.

Today, I went about fulfilling my duties as a third wheeler for my roommate. These days I am started to realize that third wheeling is an art. The mediator between the two, and I understand they don't want to make me feel uncomfortable but I want them to understand that they should enjoy each other and not worry about me. So I do that thing where I make them stand together and take numerous photos of them and make them sit together on rides and in the bus. And I'm sort of glad I did.

Because on this quickly crowding bus, this guy approached my empty seat. And I soon learned that he was Filipino which would explain why he was so friendly. Talking to strangers is the best. Nothing means anything but it means everything. We talked about the world, and growing up and meeting people from everywhere. What it was like to see the world through the eyes of a different person. And we talked about travels and cultures and the stars.

'So how old are you?'
'why don't you take a guess'
'When I first saw you I would have said 14, but now I think you are 28 or at least 25 years old'
'Why is that?'
'Because of your travels and the way you see the world'

Your high school life and who your parents are really defines you to an extend I would have never comprehended. Education and the world at our fingertips. I feel so ridiculously lucky to have what I have. To have all my experiences and my views of the world. and a lot of that, most of that came from my high school life and mainly, from you guys.

And he was 21 and he has never been out of the state. And I was 18 but I grew up sleeping on planes and watching stars from the train windowpanes.

And it's ridiculous of myself to talk about my own views and goals to these people because it's not an opportunity they were given. They weren't told to dream but to stick to anything worth living, to hold onto the sour reality laid out by society. Growing up in sheltered homes and strolling down a written path. So we talked and talked and he would ask me about where I've been, the people I've met, the systems I've lived through. The perks about talking to a stranger is that you can talk about anything because it won't matter. The only thing we have of each other were out names and even that I have forgotten.

As the bus rolled into the next stop, he got up and began to leave. But before he spoke that one last good bye, he told me he felt that he knew a lot more about the world just from our conversation.

And as much as that makes life worth living, it also made me feel.. so.. aged..