Life doesn’t follow a formula. It’s messy math—wild guesses, wrong turns, and moments we never saw coming. But sometimes, it all circles back to a number. A birth year. A lucky number. A time, a place, a jersey, a door. A number you carry not for what it adds up to, but for what it holds.
These tags are for the ones that don’t fit into neat equations. For the ages and stages, the almosts and what-now's. The number that felt like a sign. The one you can’t forget, even if you’re not sure why. Because life rarely adds up neatly—and that’s the best part.
It’s a rough estimate at best. Intuitive. Imperfect. And exactly right. And the numbers? They’re more than math. They’re memory. They’re meaning. They’re yours.
