Maybe a little, maybe a lot.
Maybe a four year old princess with a box of crayons, glitter on her fingernails, and flowers in her hair.
Maybe a seven year old girl with a blue ink stain on her favorite t-shirt who could read an entire Harry Potter book in a day.
Maybe a nine year old who was already sitting on a bench with Phyllis, eating ice cream and planning wild adventures.
Maybe a quiet twelve year old nobody afraid to talk in class, realizing that self-assurance would be a lot more difficult from here on out.
Maybe a skinny fourteen year old dancer waiting to catch up to the rest of the girls her age and wild about a boy she was barely even friends with.
Maybe a sixteen year old blogger impatient for her first kiss and her driver's license, eating peanut butter sandwiches, and sharing coke and m&ms with a boy who would never quite relinquish his hold on her.
Maybe they're all stacked like tree rings inside of an nostalgic eighteen year old who never really hated glitter.
A girl with callused feet and a blistered heart, impatient fingers and an impossible dream. A girl who is far too familiar with the sharp, lingering sting of rejection and is afraid that she will never be enough. A girl with deep roots and tentative branches, who will never stop looking for miracles.
A girl who never lost touch with with that four year old princess who believed in magic.
This is beautiful. Really. It's my favorite childhood post by far. So clever and original.
ReplyDeleteI thought I commented on this forever ago. I've only read it a hundred times.
ReplyDelete"Maybe a nine year old who was already sitting on a bench with Phyllis, eating ice cream and planning wild adventures."
Man, I love this.
I watched Parent Trap today. I have never cried during that until now. Because I'm not a child anymore. And we're not twins.
The progression you made from the 4 to 18 was so real and so much. This is was perfectly done.
ReplyDelete