Some days (most days) it feels ridiculous that I am not 17. It feels so false that I live in my own house, that I’m not checking in with my mom before I go out for a night with my friends. It amazes me that my mother doesn’t know my friends anymore because they aren’t the people I have seventh period theater with or the people I walked to the bus stop with. It’s ridiculous that I’m paying rent. And working. And going to college. And using a credit card.
When does living a life stop feeling like I’m playing house?