Childhood Lost — a 5.30 AM realization, inspired by The Little Prince

I’m not ready to be a grown-up. I’m not willing to give up childhood yet. I want to tame a flower, know the stars, not care about things that matter. I want to play and dance and laugh, and forget that time passes. I want that hour of play – after dinner and before bedtime – that always felt endless. I want to believe that I’ll be the same forever. I want to ignore the world’s problems. I want to fully and honestly believe that I can do anything. I want to say whatever pops into my head without fear of consequence. I want ten minutes’ seclusion in my room to feel like an eternity of torture.

I don’t like being a grown-up. I have this weird thing called responsibility now. It’s confusing and scary to the child in me. I wish life wasn’t so important now. I miss the days when we just lived for fun. When Disney was just funny and pretty and exciting, and we didn’t have to be offended by it in some way. I miss being able to like what I want, without having to worry about what everyone else says. I miss not being peer-pressured into social activism. I miss being able to dream about being rescued by my Prince Charming, my Knight in Shining Armour, without having others say I’m being sexist.

I miss the days when boys had cooties. I miss having slumber parties with girls and playing Truth or Dare, when the dares were innocent things, like, “I dare you to eat grass” or “I dare you to do a somersault”. I miss the days when 10.00 PM was considered “staying up late”. I miss coming home for lunch and watching cartoons while I ate a peanut-butter and banana sandwich my mom made me. I miss recess. I miss being able to run outside and play with a friend; no money needed. No plan. We just met up together in the morning and play until sunset.

I miss it. Where did those days go?