Priorities

I am 20 years old.
That is two decades of life.
I am a man, sort of.
I am a man in the fact that I have all the correct male appendages,
I can be drafted and sent to fight wars,
I can be tried as an adult,
and I passed the age of 18, barely.

I am also a boy, sort of.
I am a boy in that I still read comic books,
I still fantasize about being in a rock band,
I sing in the shower (and car),
I still have trouble expressing how I feel.

I have a wealth of family and friends.
I have a beautiful son who is growing up faster than I can comprehend.
I live on my own in an apartment, sort of.

I love my life.
I am humbled and grateful for the things I have experienced.
There is a rift though.
I know I am on the cusp of something life altering and possibly heartbreaking.
This is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I am just now learning to like myself again.
This is the first time in a long time.

I have this best friend (the best human being I have ever known), she told me once:
"Work on making yourself happy before you try making anyone else that way."

Now that I am finally starting to make myself happy,
I could not be more confused about my life and what it means.

With all the confusion though,
this man-boy is appreciative of the small things:
a hand to hold,
a bed to share occasionally,
random texts,
and an individual who, for whatever reason, doesn't ever count him out.