When I was young, no older than 8 I had tea parties with my grandfather. He the host, my grandmothers porcelain dolls the guests. It was my favorite thing about visiting him, because tea parties were what grown ups do.

But that little girl with the small hands and big heart is gone now, or at the very least she’s pretty **** good at hide and seek.

That little girl has now realized that life fights *****, kicking you in the stomach and waiting for you to get back up, just so it can hit you in the face.

she has learned that flying and falling are the same thing except the latter has a more permanent destination.

She now isn’t learning how to read books, but the emotion in people’s eyes, the fakeness of their smiles, the hollowness in their voice.

Now she knows that if you bite off more then you can chew there is a good chance you’ll choke.

She can now see that life truly is beautiful, a beautiful disaster, stuffed with heartbreak and pain, smiles and laughs, family and friends, highs, lows, and change, constant change, because if you aren’t moving foreword, where are you going?

She now realizes that life is to short to care, but too important to not care. In other words, life contradicts its self over and over and over and over again
That little girl had inhibitions, she wanted to be a doctor or a fashion designer, or an actress.  This “young adult” still has those dreams, but she knows that that’s all they are.... Dreams. And soon she will be on her own and have to wake up and do something more realistic.

So now I have tea parties on my own, the tea is replaced by coffee, that keeps me alert enough to get through the day, the dolls are replaced by the quiet whisper of the voices in my head.