Ten years have gone by.
When I started this blog, I was an adult, but so young.
I was coy about my age, but now I am middle and there is no denying it.
My hair is streaked with grey.
My relationship is not where I want it to be and is still precarious and uncertain. Some days it is heaven and some days it just seems like pain.
I am very much a younger sibling, a hurt and torn child, the product of a childhood that was composed of derisive stares and mockery. I am needy and demanding and --- now, in a total reversal --- prone to breaking down in tears at setbacks.
Is this a dream or a prayer?
I haven't become emo. It's just a meditation. More tomorrow, or in a week, or in ten years.