I see myself running around chasing two kids. I see myself laughing on my wedding day. I see myself being happy. I think it’s all attainable. To grow up, be happy and lead a life that makes me smile.
I know that I have many years left. The number of years I have lived is considered small. In people’s eyes I’m considered a child. I don’t find myself mature, but I don’t find myself childish either. Why is age so important? I think of my future. It seems as if I have so much ahead of me, but my mind reminds myself that what I’m thinking is just my imagination. It just doesn’t seem real, because I am always forced back into the world of reality.
(Not Proofread)
xoxo,
It’s Only Me