I am not a little kid. I don't even know when I stopped being a kid. It was before most, I'm sure. However not being a child did not make me immune from being naive. It did not prevent me from attaining a type of immaturity that only time and hard life experience can take away. I've had to grow up a lot over the years, and even now I am not afraid to admit that I still have more growing up to do. I have not been fully molded yet, and perhaps the idea that one day I will be is another example of how much more I need to grow.
It is with this that I find myself overly frustrated. Completely exhausted over the fact that at their rawest point my emotions are child-like. Like a spoiled child who hasn't gotten her way, I'm internally throwing the biggest temper tantrum ever. Perhaps I am outwardly as well. My heart is consumed with jealously, and anger that cannot be fully rationalized. I want to scream for this life that I almost feel entitled to but the fight in me is distinguished. I just sit in the corner, arms crossed, and lips extended in a pout.
However, at the root of all my emotions is a feeling a child, I believe, cannot fully grasp. For once this emotion is felt to this extent, childhood is but a distant past. The pain, hurt, and betrayal that weigh me down are fully grown. They are a lifetime's worth.
I keep being told that love isn't easy. I never expected easy. But how much pain can love bear before it stops truly being love?
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