Breathe
When do we grow up?
Is it when we vote, or is it when we down our first drink? Is it when the first kiss is placed on your lips, or does that only count from that special someone? Is it a choice, or are we more forced into it; society baring its fangs and scaring the innocence from our skin.
Will it be obvious? Do we wake up one day and realize today is the day you have to be an adult? Will it be obvious? Do we get our first credit card, only to spend the misnamed “credit” to pay bills and then pay those bills back once more? Will it be obvious? When someone wakes up besides you, have you made it to that promise land?
I don’t like it, not a bit. It deems us too responsible to enjoy the simple things. That Play-Doh and finger paints are presented to kids for the only time in their lives they’re allowed to use them. It tells us we waste time if it’s not time spent contributing to the masses. That a job is the qualifying factor for you as a member of society. It says to enjoy our youth yet it tricks us into thinking being all grown up is that much better. When everyone spits double standard, why does that one never come up?
I’m not quite sure what people think of nostalgia these days. I enjoy it, it helps cut through the melancholy that presses into me just that little bit more every day. I do think of brighter blue skies, where the biggest concern was an art project. Where you longed for recess, but killed it doing nothing when it came. Where first love is felt, before I truly even knew what love was.
Do I even know now?
Who I love might be too much of a question. But I can be confident in what I love. I know, when I go, I want it to be under the sky. The deepest blue you could imagine, with the sun reflecting off pure white puffy clouds, for contrast. I want the grass to be green as grass can be, and soft like down. Nothing too complex, but something that will be obvious, as my peace will be that day.