I have never...

I have never said a romantic "i love you" out loud to anyone. Whispering such things while the recipient is out of earshot or fast asleep does not count.

I have never "slow-danced" with anyone. Never been asked to. Never been someone's date to any dance of any kind. I sometimes wonder that if I ever end up getting married, that our first dance will also be my first slow dance ever.

I have never felt so at home and yet so restless all at once, as I feel when I live in LA. It's the reason I moved to San Francisco the first time I lived here and it's starting to make me very uncomfortable now. I fear that familiarity breeds content and I may become stunted. But I'm having so much fun right now; the easy way is becoming too hard not to take.

I have never worried about my "ticking clock," because I've never had to. But, now approaching 26, I can't help but worry that the next ten years of my dating life will mirror the tumultuous, self-sabotaging first ten. These last ten years from 16-26, flew by with little sense of consequence, but there is a fear brewing inside of me that knows that there are some serious lifestyle choices and personal goals that I will have to figure out in order to take on the actual life-altering repercussions that come with turning 36.

I have never tried anything I didn't think I would succeed at. This is why it could seem that I succeed at everything I try.

I have never said nothing at all, especially when I couldn't say something nice and only except when I wanted to say "I love you."

The only phone numbers I have committed to memory are my own cell and my parents' home line. I have an impeccable memory which stores the most acute details from moments in time, but names and phone-numbers never cease to escape me. I can't help but worry that this is a reflection of the underlying forces of my deep-running self-absorption.

I have never felt as low as I feel when someone important flakes on me. There is nothing more devastating than a last minute cancellation from a close friend, who already has my love and trust. I take this sort of let down, so far beyond personally that it becomes unhealthy, irrational and self-destructive. I am trying to learn to just breath, forgive and deal with it.

I have never felt as lucky as I do when I look back on a week where I've stayed in touch with family, caught up with real friends, felt accomplished at work and felt like I was part of something that meant something special to me. This feeling seems to increase at an exponential rate when on a lucky streak.

I have never wanted to keep learning, growing and living as much as I do now and I never been so excited to find out what could happen next at any given moment.