22.

If being one year older means getting flowers and cupcakes, spilling chocolate fondue in your hair (because it was too good to notice), singing Billy Joel (loudly) in the car with your parents, and roadtripping to CA the next day, then it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, 22.

I plan on you stretching me like taffy. But I'm counting on the sweet results to make it all worth it.

I'm counting on small bits of hope (the thing with feathers) to keep me going.

And I'm taking full advantage of those people I call family (with some friends thrown in) to help me be not just better, but best.

I'm looking up and far ahead.
So cheers to you, 22.