Little One

eighteen years.

that's how long i've been breathing.

eighteen months.

that's how long i've been thrashing.

eighteen weeks.

that's how long i've been thinking.

some kids have parents, some have none.

i was fortunate to have both of mine throughout my entire life,

and when i say my entire life i really mean my entire life.

from age four i've been sitting at home

with my mom as my teacher

and me trying to understand the difference between the word "to" and "too".

my words fail to paint a picture of my childhood because,

honestly,

i sometimes still barely understand.

it was march 29.

the night before my graduation.

the last thought i had was,

"damn, this is my last salutation".

vibrations brought me back to consciousness

my partner in crime had texted

restating how he was so proud -

of my accomplishments 

and my struggles.

the last line read,

"welcome to adulthood"

in that moment the wind was knocked out of me

i suddenly couldn't breathe.

as cliche as it goes,

i concluded that i wasn't the little girl everyone believed me to be.

not anymore, at least.

the silence in my room was deafening

you could hear the crickets chirping

and my erratic breathing.

my whole life was in front of me,

and i could finally see,

that i was no longer the shy one everyone wanted to see.

i was strong in my weakness 

brave through my sadness

and triumphant due to my failure.

i wasn't so little anymore

and it took him to see it 

for me to believe it

and thanks to that

i'm so excited for so many more achievements.