And the air moved more violently, and the grass grew so fast. It's like nature was in some kind of haste, and before you know it I was Five, thinking of when it would be Christmas again or when it would be my birthday so I can get gift and present.
In no time I was Eight, I thought of being a princess, I believe I can do anything if I had the heart, I believed the world was a just place and people had no scary thoughts. I had one weapon and I was a pen, with it I would fight boredom till the very end, I'll draw up stories and cook up characters, especially about a fierce princess, who didn't need a knight to save her. I will put up plays with my friends and we'll gather and dream up characters and go on adventures, our imagination ran wild. We went with it because it was all that was had, the kind of plays that had no bad ending because it was all about having fun, and that the worse thing that could happen was having a scrapped knee, and I wish I was older so things won't hurt as bad, because I've never seen an adult cry.
Time flew by and I was Ten, my body started changing, puberty stuck, I was much to little when insecurity came flooding in, and although I had the "talk" I was still confused about a lot of things; I wondered why I could no longer play with boys like I used to, why adult wore make up, and why I couldn't marry my dad. The rest of the years I spent looking at the mirror, I started checking my dress, I started fixing my hair, check my body. It's amazing what nature does to a young girl but nature was never fair to begin with, with the changes in children that goes at different rate, so starts a little competition that leaves a little girl asking 'why I'm I so different'. I couldn't wait till I was Thirteen, maybe then I'll be different and I'll look just like the girls in my class.
In a blink of an eye I was Thirteen, a full fledged teenager, dealing with mathematic equations, the intricacies of literature, parents dynamics and the art of making new friends(as it has changed drastically). It was all about boys and what not, just a few years ago they were pretty gross but now they are like crackers to birds. "Does he find me pretty", "what does he think of me," "damn he sure won't find me attractive," "I'm probably not pretty". At first I never understood the hype but very so I was wrapped into this world I never really knew. I buried my head in the one thing I understood and it was books, they kept me company on days were I was alone, and I'll pray that when I was sixteen I'd probably have more friends, maybe I'll be allowed to wear makeup, and if I'm really lucky, I'll get a phone. So I couldn't wait to be sixteen.
Suddenly my Sixteenth birthday came along, almost an adult. The day I so prayed for, was in the end, nothing special. I didn't celebrate my birthday because I felt like life lost its flavour. Boys were still in trend but I knew not to mess with fire, teen boys definitely don't have your interests in heart, just a bunch of hormones on overdrive, in confusion wondering how it all works. I finally understood why I adults wear makeup, why I couldn't marry my dad l, and why adults were always on their phone. Things were starting to clear up, I could finally see, that life was not what the eight year me thought it'll be. Her fantasy gone, dreams crushed, she finally see that becoming a princess was a fading dream. People are cruel, and the world was harsh, and only the tough would actually survive. So I couldn't wait to be eighteen, because then she'll be an adult.
In a heartbeat I was Eighteen, I'm a full fledged adult. it's been a while I celebrated a birthday. I'm still hopeless, the world has lost its colour, I talk to the stars, because all the friends I had when I was Eight, have all gone on adventures, but it wasn't make-believe anymore, it was real, while I still sit here and wonder. I haven't picked up a book in a while but I still say reading is favourite hobby. Everything I hoped for did happen but it suddenly lost its meaning, like dreaming about your favourite ice-cream but throwing up just when you had a little taste. I now know for a fact that eight year old me was right boys are infact gross.
Now I'm Nineteen, and it feels like I was Five yesterday, everything has moved on in a flash, while I'm left here, more confused than I was when I was ten. The world is in a hurry that I sometimes forget all the time it took for me to become ME. I lost myself chasing a figment, while I watch as everyone piece their lives together. Sometimes I wish life could move slower; like the wind could be more gentle and the days more lax, because I'm afraid that one day, I would blink and I'll become thirty, or forty, or fifty and I've missed out on most of my life.
I'm still nineteen and nothing has really changed. Sometimes I still feel like I'm five; that lost girl, who only thought of presents, and I think I'll celebrate my birthday this year. I'm still hopeless about life and the intricacies within. I finally picked up some books and have found myself again. I've picked up my pen again but I write myself into existence. I'd write silly little poems and about emotions that are too heavy to carry. I still talk to the stars about becoming a princess. People are still cruel and life sucks a bunch but I still try to see the good in people, I guess old habits die hard. I can hear eight year old me say softly in my ears boys are still gross. But right now I'm still nineteen and I can't wait till I'm twenty-five, maybe then I'll have it figured out.
It's Still Abeegail 💗✨
Wishing time would go slower
*The image is sourced
Thank you for reading *
