The Same Girl

May 2, 2011
By Anonymous

I am the same girl who has lived in the same little grey house her whole life with the red door and the leaves that constantly fall from the two big oak trees out front and who on rainy days watches the flood water creep up her lawn but never enter her house.
The same girl who thinks of Christmas every time she smells the heater turned on at home who loves creamy spinach made best by her mom and who could only watch and never play while her big brother played video games
I am the same toothy grinned little girl smiling back in her school picture and the same girl who refused to have any bumps in her ponytailed hair
I am the same girl who was always reading books, loved her Samantha American Girl and who thought she was so cool singing along to NSYNC and Britney Spears.
I am the same girl who preformed on the street drain watching her reflection in her neighbor’s window and who played everyday with the other kids on the block as long as she was back by dark.
I am the same girl who was always barefoot on hot concrete, wet grass, and harsh gravel. Who spent every summer at Riverside Country Club to escape the heat and built tents out of beach towels with her best friend, Grace.
I am the same girl who had to go to Droopy’s Snowballs everyday and get the same snowball-Groom’s Cake- and would close her eyes and savor every bite
The same girl who got a pink Barbie jeep and broke her grandparents, Momeyes and Popeyes’s stone bench in the backyard and was the master of flower art according to her grandma.
I am the same girl who was always mistaken for being older with her long giraffe legs and who insisted on painted each nail a different color, her hand a small rainbow.
I am the same girl who was afraid of her third grade teacher and who always went to the movies just her and her dad.
I am the same girl who heard and still hears “As long as you are trying, that’s all that matters”, comforting words when your feeling down, and “Get up it’s after six” words you hear when you don’t want to get up.
The same girl who had a tantrum on Easter when she was three and threw her shoes at her mom, used to think angels lived in the rafters at church and God had a sister named Gloria.
This girl is me and she is my past-we are the same.

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