Don't ask me what for, but I am.
Of turning 16 in nine days, being dead, being older.
They are all the same thing.
I wanted to stop aging when I was ten years old. I stood in the breakfast room on my thirteenth birthday and said "Oh, Man, before I know it, I'll be fifteen years old. I can hardly think about it." Too scary. It still is, and I'm 15. And I'll be 16 before I even get used to being 15. I wish I was 13 again. I wish I was 14.
I remember, the day of my 13th birthday, I took a quiz in Biology, and would have gotten 100% if I hadn't missed #13. Then, I knew that it would be a shitty transition, that all of the transitions afterward would be respectively shitty and missing, and too fast, too confusing, and quickly fired from point blank.
I should have known, but I did know. I still do know.
Here's to being 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
I see you too, Miss 21 year old me.
Shit, that was fast, what the hell happened? How did you get so old so fast?
Take a lesson from the past, and a word of caution.
DON'T LET IT PASS YOU BY!
Good luck with aging, wrinkles, and sagging tits.
Love,
You.
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