We never know what we really want, even when we think we have it.
I’ve always wanted to grow older…


School was almost over and I was almost 18, college was on the way. Everything was ready, I received my letter of acceptance to UConn and I'm settling into my dorm in less than a month. My mom decided that it was time to paint away the blue stripes on my wall. I had everything ready, my desk and chair were gone and my bed was no longer purple flowers. It was replaced with something more “guest friendly”: plain green sheets with matching pillowcases. The beige paint was mixed and readied. I picked up my brush and…


Finally the paint was up. It was official, my room was no longer going to be mine. Only every couple of weeks when I came up to visit. “The Guest Room” my mom was calling it. I guess I’m a guest in my house now. Suddenly, tears started pouring down my face.


“Stop Crying!” I told myself, still weeping. I just couldn’t stop the tears from coming from my eyes.
Why was I crying? I was happy. I thought I was.


As I reminisced I realized how much I loved my life here. The jokes, the memories, my parents, even my sisters. The lack of responsibility, being able to fall asleep at 4:30 in the afternoon and having my parents do my laundry for me. Living on the edge, and my parent’s money


That is over now.


As I picked up the paintbrush and continued once again, I realized I didn’t want to change.