Holding On

I keep wanting to hold on to childhood. To my parent's strong embraces, protection, and love. I want to stay in my home forever. But I know that's impossible. I never want to leave home. To make my own life. To attend college. Work harder than I've ever worked before. But it's all closing in on me like a trap. Whether I like it or not, I'm growing up. Way, way, way faster than I ever want to. It's way too hard to let go of. There are moments, admittedly, when I actually want to and it's easy to grasp the idea of, but most of the time the thought of leaving home depresses me. I'm fifteen. I just have three years. I guess the best thing to do is just live in the moment, be present for right now, and enjoy every last little moment and thing I can before that time finally comes. 

I still have three years, after all. And I can't, shouldn't, spoil these precious moments, times, before they're gone. I'm fifteen. It's a beautiful age. I'm going to make it one for me. I'm not gonna let it get the best of me. Even when sisters have to leave for college. Oh Lord, I don't want her to go. I really don't. I know she has to, but I don't want her to. I love her ever so much. I will miss our intimate conversations and heart-to-heart, one-one-one, just-us talks unbearably. But I will bear it for her and for You.