Growing Up

What have I left here to do?
The ordeal is over.
But was it really an ordeal?
How old am I now… really?
I look behind me and I don’t see a line.
I see a mess, a great choppy mess with sections dislocated, pushed in different directions, so it looks perhaps more like a pattern than a line.
My knees are trembling.
I’m getting way too old way too fast.
I don’t see what all the agitation is about.
Oh, I do.
It’s a wonderful thing, you’ll be free. You’ll be a woman.
But I’m not sure I want to be a woman.
That’s ridiculous.
Think of a full-grown man wearing diapers.
So harsh, just like your mother.
So wait, I don’t have an option?
Do I?
Do you?
Do you want to depend on your daddy forever? That’s just like the man in the diapers. A little girl dependent on her dad is okay, a full-grown woman, not quite so!
Are you just being lazy?
No, it’s not that, I’m just talking about the things that matter to me being driven out.
It’s simple, just live in a way that you preserve what is important to you!
Yes but sometimes, perhaps most of the time, I won’t have that choice. What about the vestibular? Do you have any idea how hard I’m going to have to study for that?
But it’ll all be worth it when you get in.
Yeah. It will be a major accomplishment.
But what about all the dreams I will have to forget to wake up early and study the whole day?