Every year, I dread this day. Usually it is a day to take stock of my life and in general wonder whether living one day at a time is working out or not. But this year, it's different.
I did a lot of things I wanted to. I made that pilgrimage to New Zealand to meet Rhys, I grew my hair long and went to a lot of colleges to talk. I met a lot of people and made a lot friends. I listened to a lot of music, watched a lot of serials and read a shoveful of books. I went home every month, I even made a point to see everybody everytime I go. I did what I wanted.
As bright as that sounded, I did have my moments of darkness. The days when you feel like you've been cheated, used and abused. Days when it hardly paid to get out of bed, bouncing from one problem to another. 'T was but a small price to pay (in hindsight).
Now, I'm 24. Somewhere inside it is still 13 but *that* kid won't come out and play till he's done his homework.
--If I learn from my mistakes, pretty soon I'll know everything.