When I was 10, all I wanted to be was 13.
An age whose complexities were its charming glories. I hoped to be someone with immense strength, her will chiselled by love and heartbreaks.
I wanted to be a teenager.
When I was 15, all I wanted was to be 18.
To drive, to vote and to party. Responsible enough to make my own choices, and be accountable for them.
I wanted to be an adult.
When I was 19, all I wanted to be was 21.
Old enough to the master of my own will. Wise enough to lead a life of my own. I fantasized about the world and romanticized my existence.
I wanted to be free.
I am almost 21. And all I want is to be 10 again.
I have been trying to grow up since I was 10
It’s been 10 long years and I…
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