I have Earned That Right

I have Earned That Right

Why am I so bitter? Why so cold? Why do I always seem like such a bitch?

The short answer? Shut the hell up.

The real answer…the one no one wants to hear? Because I have earned that right.

With more years behind me than ahead, I have had time to reflect. And the most important lesson life has taught me is this: None of it really matters.

Not the squandered youth. Not the kindness and love I gave to others which was never returned. Not the resilience it took just to survive, only to end up wishing I had not.

I have earned the right to be dismissive. Of your feelings. Of the world’s expectations. Because, God knows, no one has ever paid much mind to mine.

What exactly is it you think I owe you?

There are no guarantees in life, no promises. The cruelest lesson of all is learning that no one is promised a tomorrow. And when you lose the one person who made life worth living, the illusion of meaning crumbles.

I gave everything.

Went all in.

Head over heels.

Feet first.

Heart wide open.

And for a fleeting moment, first days, then years, we were happy. Time stopped mattering. All that mattered was us.

Then it was over.

Now I sit alone in the same dark corners we once lit with laughter. I try to go back, to recapture even a sliver of joy, but those places are gone, or worse, time has moved on without me. Now others make memories where I once lived mine.

That is what no one tells you about growing older.

It is not just about the aches, pains, or failing health. It is about becoming invisible in a world that no longer sees you. A world that moves too fast, too loud, and too careless to remember you were once a part of it.

That is why I am difficult.

That is why I snap.

That is why I do not smile at the same bright future you do. Because I no longer have one.

What future does an old man have? When your youth is gone, your body is failing, and your memories feel like sand slipping through your fingers, what do you offer the world?What do you even offer yourself?

I fear the day I forget the sound of his laugh. The warmth of our shared mornings. The way I once felt loved and like I belonged.

Fear drives me now.

Fear of a body that betrays me.

Fear of forgetting.

Fear of waking up to yet another tomorrow that offers nothing new, only less.

I have seen things you have not.

I have survived what others could not.

And I carry it all inside of me, every day.

Aging is not for the weak. It is a quiet war and one you fight alone.

So, if I am hard to love, hard to live with, hard to understand, try to remember: I am still here.

Still getting out of bed each day, even though I know the odds are stacked against me. I am still willing to face each day with everything I have got left.

And that…That is why I have earned the right to be exactly who I am.