It's strange. The areas in which I used to have solid footing are slipping from under me. The things I used to be solid in, I'm now falling. I dont understand. But, I never have.

I wonder if maybe one day I'll understand. If that's what growing up is... I'm so ready for these teenage years of confusion to be over. I dont want to keep searching for myself. I want to be found already. Will I ever find me?

I look in the mirror, and sure, I see me, but I'm not exactly certain if it's the me I want. I have so much growing to do, and only three more years to do it. 2 and a half actually... It doesn't seem like enough time. Life is so short.

I never understood why people used to say that. I mean, it's life, it's going to be the longest thing you ever do. But that's not what it means. At least not to me. It means that with so much to do in this life, there's never enough time to do it all. There's not enough time to grow up. At least, not until you're considered grown.

Does something just click I wonder? Like breathing. We take in oxygen because we know we'll die otherwise? Do we simply mature, because we know it'll be a horrendous struggle from the on if we dont?

I read books and watch TV and movies, and see the children in them grow. Become who they are. Find what they've been searching for. So... do I wait? Until knowledge simply falls into my head, or go out and get it? Because in books and TV, growing up seems to come to them.

But, I'm not fictional... I'm real. I have a heart, a brain, eyes, fingers, toes, lips, bones. I have school, classes I'm failing, friends I fight with. I have memories and smiles because of them. I have two parents, who became a statistic to the divorce rate. I have two cats who I love. I'm real. So do the same rules apply?

Can I grow simply because I will it? Or do I have to fight, and pray to whatever God there may be I make it out alright? Will I ever be able to answer my questions, or find someone who can?

I've been told it'll all be okay in the end. What about my way to the end? What if I dont want to fight my way to get there? I've never been a fighter. I've always been a thinker. I've always been the little girl with too many questions.

So many questions... and more pop up each day. I cant make them stop, and really, I dont think I'd want to. Dont they help make me... me? Isn't that what I'm trying to figure out? Though, a few answers would be nice. A few skipped years would be wonderful. A little less apathetic questioning might do me some good... But is that the me I want?

And there... for all to see... en lies the question I want answered the most.