July 7, 2002. It’s my 25th birthday. I’m twenty-krunking-five. I had been dreading this birthday for a long time. 25 is supposed to be the age when you have it all figured out. This is when you’ve finished school, have a plan in place, and are ready to begin your life. And where am I? I’m alone, in a tiny little apartment in Japan. No goal. No plan. I just exist. Do I have a girlfriend? Never have, no prospects on the horizon. Do I have any friends at all? Yes, but they are all so far away. This is the one thing I was dreading the most about being in Japan. I have reached the age, but I am truly and completely alone.
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