Ten hours later, I realize crap, I'm 17 as well. Hm. Miss. America ain't so old anymore.
The point, lies in the fact, that I'm growing up, but I'm refusing to...and it's pretty scary. I cannot believe that soon I'll be off the college; I'll be married; I'll be working. The future is such an enigma - and a scary one - that all I really want to do is curl in a ball and time travel back - back a couple years to when life wasn't marked by the words you said or the grades you got; it was viewed by the highest jumps on the bed or the loudest scream. I want to go back to those days.
People are doing so much with their lives...while here I am, living like hey, I have a bajillion more years left. I've never been the one to slack off, but when it comes to age...I guess I have. I want to live in the past; even the present is formidable.
So...what to do?
I don't know.
And the fact that I don't know is just another sign that Mom, Dad, I am not ready to grow up.
