Tuesday, May 17, 2011

seis

Spinning, laughing, dancin' to her favorite song
a little girl, with nothing wrong
is all alone

eyes wide open, always hopin'
for the sun
and she'll sing her song, to anyone
that comes along

Fragile as a leaf in autumn
just fallin' to the ground
without a sound...

Crooked little smile, on her face
tells a tale of grace
that's all her own

Spinning, laughing, dancin' to her favorite song
Well she's a little girl, with nothing wrong
and she's all alone
a little girl, with nothing wrong
and she's all alone
(Seven Years--Norah Jones)

Six--not quite seven--years ago today, I was walking around the park with my family, my graduation cap and cords still on, proudly beaming to the passers-by who congratulated me for my accomplishment.

Six years in the past, I graduated from high school. I thought about it this morning when I was at work, and I said it out loud, as though to make it real. Six years. Where has that time flown to? Where is it now hiding?

It seems like five minutes ago that I was in high school, suffering through many of the typical trappings of adolescence--crushes, friendships gone awry, pimples--and some of the not-so-typical kind as well. And yet, here I am, an adult (I suppose). When you speak the ages (18 through 23, almost 24), it certainly doesn't seem like that much. But when I think of all of the things that have happened, and how different I am from that girl then, I am almost astounded.

Kind of wish I could go back in time and meet that girl, and tell her about the fantastic young lady she'd become.

Eh, no need. I'm pretty sure she figured it out.

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