Ramblerambleramble

I don't know where this writing is going, but here goes nothing.

I don't know what's up with me lately. I'm different. I feel different.

I've always had a childish sense of wonder. I loved pink. I loved coloring. I loved princesses. I remember the day I bought myself the Disney Princess collection of reusable stickers to put on my wall.

I didn't have much of a childhood. My dad was one of those guys that thought giving me the gift of a step stool on my 8th birthday so I could reach the stove to cook, the sink to wash dishes, and the washer to wash clothes, was a GREAT idea. I was changing my brothers' diapers and making bottles before I could do multiplication. I had bad attendance from having to babysit my brothers and nurse my mother through hangovers.

Barbie dolls, art supplies and frilly socks were niceties I was rarely afforded. Besides, there was work to be done and straight A's to be maintained, there wasn't time for that stuff anyway.

Down deep, that little girl was always there, always with me. She helped me remain silly and open to others as well as the world. Even through the darkest of days.

For a few short moments last year, she had a chance to shine. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.

I remember pulling down the Disney Princess stickers and tossing them in the trash. I remember feeling like I was throwing away a huge piece of myself with them.

The pink is gone from my life. No more princesses or glitter. Serious hoodie is serious. The giggly girlwoman has been replaced with business only, and I feel so old.

That little girl spark was a respite from the weight of my life, and I think it really has left the building. Right along with Elvis.