heymcfly

As a child, you're taught one day you will get to be one of the grownups. Most of the time, you yearn for this transition and feel imprisoned in your minute form, considering the idea of it being a finite moment far from the truth. As you age, you find the new problems that welcome you into adulthood, new responsibilities that beckon you to join them whether they are welcomed or not. Then, at some point, you become an adult; you lose the suffix "teen" and can now go to war or be thrown in prison for crimes. You also get a job, a new type of clothing for work, and you're thrust into the front lines with such little experience under your belt. They say that the process of growing up is enough to prepare you for the "real world." My boot camp did very little to prepare me for what was in store. In fact, I would go so far as to say my childhood wasn't truly lived, it was stolen. I consider myself fortunate that I was brought up by two loving parents, albeit perhaps not the most conventional. They weren't the Brady's, or the Cleavers. They weren't what I was raised to believe they should have been, and somehow I took that personally. But every night I went to bed in the comfort of my own room, being well fed and clothed. I was not starved of the more common luxuries, in terms of books or movies. Upon reflection, I still see the hands of the clock for my adolescence spinning wildly, as a windmill in a hurricane. I want to find someone to blame; there must be an answer...but there isn't. I imagine that Adam and Eve would have felt as much in Eden, were they raised in such a manner. Now is the season for peace on Earth, good will toward all, and love. I remember when a ten dollar piece of molded plastic would satisfy my craving, I would be satiated with just one day and one tradition. In the evenings now I find myself praying to a God who may or may not exist to just find me someone to love, to begin my life with, someone...who will truly love Me. I begin to question whether that prayer will ever be heard; if my life is to remain devoid of the one thing in the world I truly want for. It's with that thought I my mind begins to hearken to the days past when a ten dollar piece of molded plastic was all I wanted. But I realize that wasn't so; it never was. For the most part I had what I wanted, a non-traditional, non-conventional loving family. That family is gone, everyone evolving to new positions, a sister with a new last name and children of her own while my parents gain the title of "grand" to some and my grandmother as "great" to those same chosen few. I'm not in a rush to expand the family tree to such a size, but to have that love grow with someone else...it's all I truly want for Christmas, or any days in between. I can't say I'll be on a 34th street this year, but I can say I do hope miracles do occur in time for the holidays and that they find me.