Eyes Wide Shut

I don't feel like I am 46.Okay, in some ways I do.I hate that my bones ache, doing something I've done a million times.I hate the way my belly now bulges, despite weighing the same exact poundage I've weighed for several years.I hate the way I look back at what I've lost, instead of what I've gained.I hate the way the wrinkles spread out from my eyes, and the way my upper eyelid ripples and sags, as if giving in to gravity.I hate that "making my mark" seems frustratingly out of reach.I hate that my eternal optimism has been replaced by something else, neither optimistic, nor pessimistic. I'd prefer something more extreme.I hate that I now require reading glasses, and think it sucks that I don't have more time to read.Inside, I don't feel old.Well, that's not entirely true either.There are times when I look back on my life and feel the full weight of my experiences, and others when they float by on a breeze.There are times when those experiences seem like well-earned battle scars, and other times as if still an open wound.At times I covet, instead of being contented.At times I resent, instead of showing grace.At times I hate, instead of attempting understanding.At times I lose sight, when all I really need to do is open my eyes.