For me, growing up happened all at once,
and at the same time,
took my whole life.
It was like wearing my favorite pair of jeans.
They stretch and fade and accommodate the growth of my legs.
Once hemmed, the seams are now unraveled.
Holes spring as they are travelled
and yet they still fit,
still look wonderful in my mind,
for I picture them the same way I bought them
the very first time.
But then I leave and try on new jeans
that shroud my body in beauty,
and suddenly it becomes impossible to return
to those thread bare rags.
I realize now they've been too small,
I see clearly I can no longer wear them with ease
and the knowledge of what they could be.
Suddenly, I woke up one day, and realized my world had changed.
I could no longer love the friends
I had since I could walk.
I found myself in awkward silence
with people who taught me to talk.
I wandered down streets I knew so well,
now completely lost,
for once I had a taste of what life could be,
what was beautiful about my past was forgot.
I packed my bags and chose to leave
this life I have, this reality
that once felt so real to me
is but a waking dream.
Yes, I am afraid, but that is a risk I will take,
the same way I bought a new pair of pants,
knowing they might not provide for me
like my old jeans,
knowing I might not love them
like I loved my faded ones,
but when it comes down to it,
I know I must go.
The path that requires the most courage
is the right one to travel.
I am not running away.
I am moving on.