A Brief Retrospective of Timmy.

Today I feel on the cusp of something, but I don’t know what.

A year ago, it was the end to another semester and I was dreading summer.

Two years ago, I was mildly infatuated with a female that I was acquainted with.

Three years ago, I was a workaholic at Panera.

Four years ago, I failed all my classes at Rutgers – and met Paige.

Five years ago, I was still inside my shell and couldn’t see myself. I wasn’t aware of the ticking bomb whose fuse was going to be lit in the next year.

Six years ago, I was ending my first year at Rutgers.

Seven years ago, I was finishing my senior year of high school. I had no desire to leave.

Eight years ago, I was chasing a girl who wasn’t worth it at all.

Nine years ago, I had a crush on a girl who I’m still friends with. (She’s a rather cool chick.)

Ten years ago, I was a wee boy at the end of my first year of high school. I had no friends. On a whim, I started a journal.

Eleven years ago, I vaguely recall that sense of excitment with finishing 8th grade, and having absolutely no self-awareness whatsoever.

And twelve years ago? I really can’t remember that far back. It’s not documented.