As I prepare to leave the country and become a nomad for half of my summer, I realize how much growing up I have to do.
I am not an adult,
nor am I anything close to being one.
I see the bills I have to pay, the budgeting that should be done, and the life plans that should be made.
I'm not old enough for this. I am not a grown-up,
though society tells me otherwise.
I wish for my mom to be here with me.
That she would pack my lunch and tie my shoes.
I wish for my Dad to come into my room,
sit on the edge of my bed,
and sing me to sleep.
I wish to be of age where it is appropriate to put on Fisher-Price roller skates and pretend that I can glide over the concrete,
when in reality,
I am simply dragging my feet.
To be a kid.
To be an adult.
I am caught in the middle.
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