It’s hard i guess, this time in your life. Everything is about being somewhere else and doing other things while your stuck in the same place doing the same thing again and again. It’s hurts; the yearning. The want for something- anything different than these sore joints and weak knees. All these growing pains to boot. I’ve been with Andy for nearly three months, we haven’t said I love you in the words that mean it. We say ‘I like you’ and ‘lets get a dog’, ‘I love your mum’ and ‘how do you want me to *******’ and it starts to ache. My elbows crack before I can fully extend them and every morning when I wake up I have a glass of juice because I know milk will make me ill. They say I need to eat something but i’m full of all the cracking hip joints and dislocating shoulders that I find in every single waking day. I’m full from eating Andrews pain, it’s an every-day thing. His growing pains and mine are like siamese twins. I wake up in the morning, sometimes alone and it’s easier to do my day like that, without the wanting to return to a life where i’m in a place where he wants me to be, but I have to wake up, I have to put my brave face on and crawl through with my creaking ankles and cracking knuckles, all these growing pains building me into the adult that I never wanted to be. I guess I always wanted something better for myself, something different for myself. A lifestyle where the growing pains are still there but they’re stifled by my ever-growing creativity and my lust for life and living. This is what I was handed, to so many people it’s like a bunch of fancy desserts on a silver platter. To me it’s a mask I put on every day, I smile, a ‘thank you’ a ‘good morning’ as in-genuine as every single ‘it was nice to meet you’ at a party where you just had to stifle panic attacks all night. It wasn’t nice to meet you. bad morning. No thank you. I never anticipated it; this is the time in your life where no one around you hears your growing pains nobody hears a symphony because their own ****** racket is beating loud and clear like a drum ensemble in their ears. This is adult-hood, you’re on your own kid.