I can feel that need growing in me again. That climbing, culminating need<\/i> for change.<\/p>\n
Usually I lop off 12-14 inches of hair and pretend that it’s enough. That I’m not practically crawling out of my skin.<\/p>\n
I bought a new backpack. It’s coming on Tuesday.<\/p>\n
I’m tempted to throw some clothes in the bag and go. To just start walking and see where the world takes me.<\/p>\n
It’s not like anyone needs me.<\/p>\n
And maybe it’s what I<\/i> need. To live my life for once and actually experience something real instead of always doing what I’m told.<\/p>\n
I’ve been taking care of other people’s kids since I was 15 years old.<\/p>\n
I’ve never done anything that I wanted to do. Always just what was needed for someone else’s happiness.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I think I’m dying. Folding sheets of paper with the edges torn away a bit at a time, creasing and crumbling with age.<\/p>\n
I wonder if they will miss me when I’m gone. Or if they’ll cry for not receiving the dinners I make them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"