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Growing Pains

I cannot remember exactly when she went away. When she got lost.

Her brightly coloured scribbles on the walls were coated with a fresh coat of paint and I grew out of all the clothes she used to wear.

At first I did not miss her, or perhaps I did not really know she was gone, too focused on the future to reflect upon the past.

I cannot remember precisely when I first felt her absence. Perhaps when I saw the friends she once had change and leave me behind. Perhaps it was the first time I ever felt unsure of myself.

When unfamiliar feelings planted themselves between my lungs, I could not help but envy the girl ignorant to all but the dreams in her head.

I knew I could not bring her back and even if I could I would not want to. She will always be fearless and untameable, blessed with naivety and excitement. She will remain a memory, a fragment of time.

Yet sometimes I find it hard to believe she is gone for I see her everywhere I go.

I see her in grazed knees bandaged with pink plasters, in grass-stained books and wild daisies.

I see her in tea parties with teddy bears and pretend cakes.

When I look into the mirror, I recognise her within the person I see.

She did not go away, she is still there,

She is the girl I was and will always be.


by Ali Bryan