When I was little, I couldn’t wait to grow up. The world of adults seemed so much more exciting than my tiny one. Adults could go out at any time, and stay out late. Adults could watch horror movies, and not be frightened. Adults could have conversations with one another, intelligent or otherwise. I was impatient to be an adult.
Now that I’m an adult, I kind of miss being little. I miss the innocence and the wide-eyed wonder with which I used to perceive the world. I miss being carefree, not having to worry about bills and responsibilities. I miss being loved, the way you love little children by tucking them into bed and patting them to sleep.
Life is a hell of a thing to happen to a person.