March blues

Turning 21 and looking back reminds me of all that never was. It's like looking through misted windows at the reel of someone else's life, that my being here is just a spiritual presence with no physical manifestation. There was no childhood, I never had playing soccer with the kids downstairs, there was no intrigue at the changes puberty brought, it wasn't mine to begin with. No clap on the back reminding me of approaching manhood, this existence is on a parallel plane that doesn't intersect reality. I'm just a wandering spirit with no memories and no future. I'm still waiting. Still waiting for my life to begin. So really I'm not turning 21 yet, how could I be when I simply am not there.