Growing up?

Tonight I was talking to my best friend, about life, love, death and all of it. The whole time, all I could think was how much she sounds like I did when I was her age. I am turning 29 on December 1st. She is 22. I tried to tell her what I would have told myself at her age, but most of those things can't be told, you have to learn it on your own. It sucks to watch her have to suffer through it when you know it's really not that hard, or it shouldn't be.
Now I am here looking through old journals. At first my thought was that I was incredibly dramatic in my early twenties. Then, it started to settle in that while younger me was dramatic, I had layers and layers of emotional depth that seems to have been turned off somewhere in the midst of it. I can't tell whether or not this is a good, or a bad thing. It's like, yeah, I was over emotional...but at least I felt something. Did I flip a switch? Did I grow up; but in a bad way, like all of our children's stories warn us about? Let my heart die? Coping mechanisms were indeed needed but... I don't think I feel music like I used to, or love as hard, or cry ever.
The other night I saw Mazzy Starr live. When she played "Into Dust" I felt myself tear up, and at that moment I realized that I hadn't felt that deeply in a very long time. It felt good. It felt real. How do I get that back? Without reverting back to the emotional mess I once was? Maybe growing up is all about finding the balance. The ever elusive balance.
Perhaps I will start by finding some good music, or a good book. Start going to poetry nights again. This blog was supposed to be more interesting, because I thought I was interesting. Every time I tried to sit down and write in it however, nothing is there. Something has to ignite the fire again. Time to find my old flame. Fall in love with me again.