Background: I wrote this years ago for peyups.com. A couple of things have changed, but there are some things that always stay the same.
At seventeen, who am I?
Still a little girl. Annoying, pesky. A grumbler at most. Gossipy. Easily fascinated. Curious about almost everything. Asking the most silly things. Cringing while in tears. Gives off a chuckle once in a while. Bites her nails one time or another. Living one’s own life with that of another one only seen in fairy tales with happily ever after endings. Yeah, that’s me, that’s my life.
At seventeen, and still a little lost girl? Most probably. Or forever will be.
A young woman. Lost, just like the rest. In love. No. Never have been. Always infatuated. Feels like a princess. Looks in the mirror. Still cringes. Hopeful and warm hearted. Wait for calls that never come while counting sheep. Infuriated but calm, more than a bit dreamy. Crazy, insane, wild and yet, having a mundane existence. More like living a non-existent life. Replacing one’s own with that of another one only seen in the old dry pages of a pocket book or reflected in the glass of wide screens.
At seventeen, and now a young woman? Nah, not really. Almost. Or maybe, not just yet.
At seventeen, I am lost. Lost in another world. Lost in someone else’s identity. Wanting to be found. Waiting to be found.
Outside, she seemed like a lost little girl.
Inside, she felt like a princess.