I am eighteen. I have my whole life ahead of me. It’s scary.
I spend some days excited about what’s happening. About the speeding up, the crazy scheduling, the no more of lackadaisical summer plans.
Then, there are the other days.
The ones where I’m the little girl again. Ready to hold my Daddy’s hand forever. Ready for the simplicity of life that I’m slowly losing hold of, moment by moment.
I am no longer a child. I can feel the grains of sand slipping faster and faster between my fingers.
I can’t waste even one moment. Everything counts.