CopingMechanism

Sixteen: Entry 1

I am sixteen and I still want the teenage chaos.

I want the attention and the fun and the friends and the boys.

I want a taste of rebellion and danger but I am small and quiet. Shy and invisible.

I feel like I have been couped up in a safe shelter and now I want out.

I have always wanted out, but now I want it more than ever because I am only getting older.

It feels like my youth is the fine sand in an hourglass, gushing down to the pit; my time is running out.
I won't be young for much longer.

I'm sixteen, I am the older half of the teenage cohort but I still want my first kiss, my first date, my first love. I want all these things.

I want a young love that will grow old but never wither away.
I wonder sometimes, whether love will consume all other desires.
I crave and fear a love that will cloud my vision and make me blind, make my stomach do acrobatics and ache for the  butterflies he brings.

But more than anything, I am terrified of a love that will fade away and leave me scattered, like grains of sand in the wind.

You would be the wind and I would be the sand.

I am sixteen and I want to laugh 'til my sides ache with friends that accept me in my crazy state

. . . but I am just quiet again.

I am sixteen and I want skinny legs and short skirts. I want to wreak havoc and be a storm
but . . .

I think you know I won't.

The whole world is telling me to grow up and that's exactly what I did

and now I want my youth back.

03/02/18