When I was a child, I couldn't stop thinking about becoming an adult. Why, I don't know. I try to tell myself that it could be because of the hope shimmering inside, telling me that I could do anything I want once I grow up. I could eat as many ice creams I wanted, I could talk to anyone I liked, I could spend every single night watching TV, I could spend money like it wasn't mine.. ugh, this list could go on forever. The point is, I was always wanting to be one with the wind, indispensable but ever on the move. And for some reason, I believed that it would be possible if I became an adult. Friends or no friends, my world was always 'lit'. I have lost count of the nights I spent without a blink of sleep, because I was too excited waiting for my own birthday. I just.. I just liked being me. And when I became an adult, I wanted to tell the world that.
I am a different person today, neck deep into adulthood. I now have everything that my younger self wanted. If I may, the seven year old me would even be proud. So instead of happiness, why do I have this weight over my shoulder that I can't quite shake off? Where is that child who smiled so easily?
Looking back, I realise that it's just freedom that the child in me has been craving for so long. The freedom that makes me look bigger in my own eyes. Maybe, if someone had told me that being an adult is not about making all the decisions, but being accountable for them, I would not have wanted it at all.
