eighteen

why am i so sad about turning 18?

e i g h t e e n .

i can't believe it. i don't want to be 18. 

 My grandpa and I made a deal that we would never, ever grow up. I would tell my family that everyday. I was always going to stay little and play with my barbies. I was never going to grow up and be boring. I wasn't going to have real responsibilities. I was going to be 8 year old Madi. Forever.

I actually cried about turning 18 tonight. How ridiculous am I? I guess because I'm the oldest one in my grade, it makes it a little bit harder. Everyone is just now turning 17 and here I am becoming an adult. For some reason, it breaks my heart. I don't like growing up. I don't like it one bit.

My mom found my old blankie in the attic this week. She said it was in my play baby stroller, just the way I left it. She said that even though it was 10 years ago that we last had the stroller out, it seems like just yesterday. I know that's a cliche, but it's true. And I started crying. Again. I feel like a week ago I was dressing up my babies and playing with my brand new barbie car. All I worried about was what I wanted for lunch (usually it was a McDonald's happy meal). 

I love my birthday, don't get me wrong. But becoming 18 means just two more years away from being 20 & just one more year away from graduating. I'll never be a kid again. I'll have bills and a job and adult things to do. 

Life moves by too fast. Way too fast.