Everywhere I go, it’s always the same case–either I’m younger than everybody or everyone expect me to be older (which is pretty much the same thing, anyway). I skipped preschool when my dad died because learning how to stack blocks properly just didn’t seem important anymore. Like most of my siblings, I studied a year early and we didn’t have what everyone deems “needless” seventh grade.
It’s a blessing to one of the youngest. The surprise look on people’s face once they know I haven’t hit the big 20 mark is a nice compliment. I’ve never let the dearth of age get in the way of relating with my older classmates and friends. If anything, it motivates me to work harder to prove that age is really just a number, a difference of wrinkles. With hard work and maybe a smile or two from God, I’ve always managed to catch up with my batchmates, and in some cases, even pull ahead.
But now, it just seems that I’m getting left behind. Everyone’s growing up and someone somehow forgot to grant me the pass to adulthood. Like I am unwillingly forced to stay in Neverland. As much as I like the lost boys, the fairy dust, and the imagination though, I like moving on more. Moving to the practical side of things, to actually fulfilling what I’ve imagined.
Sigh. But as much as we want to, growing up isn’t just a personal choice. Everyone else has to want it for you to.
HAHA. 😀 I feel a lot better now that I wrote down this cryptic entry. It’s not really this bad. I just have sporadic low moments but they disappear in a jiff. Precious Blog knows exactly how to cheer me up. Haha!