Today I am not a girl watching life through a camera lens.
Today I am a girl in the world. A girl who is not sad. A girl who is not overflowing with emotions I dont know how to handle.
A girl with normal, happy feelings.
And a family I love more than anything.
Can I tell you how hard it is to be the youngest child? I know it must be be hard for the oldest, and the middle. I cant discount that. But I want to talk about the youngest because that's who I relate with.
That's who I am.
The grief doesn't come so much at a young age as it does when growing into an adult. A youngest sibling has to fight for her childhood for as long as possible because, chances are, the family will grow; the traditions will quickly turn into old memories and remember-when-we-used-to's. The youngest may not be the first to learn to deal with change, but they'll have to learn long before they ever expected the changes would come.
Siblings leave. Siblings get married. Siblings have families.
All the while the youngest is still growing up, wondering now why she feels the fear of being abandoned or forgotten. Left out.
The youngest feels like she had to grow up faster, but at the same time, feels too young for most things in her life. She never really knows when to stop fighting for her childhood or for her families traditions.
Really, she's just semi-heartbroken.
She was too young for the real good memories..
Her family grew up too fast.
Her childhood went by like a day-long rainfall; feeling like ages, but once the next day hit it left so quickly and her heart is still parched.
rain,
rain,
rain.
A very long draught.
And I'm thirsty for rain.
