When I can see myself growing up, it scares me. When I see the changes that I’ve made and are yet to be, it scares me. When I close my eyes… I’m still 17. Young. Carefree. Naive. No rent to pay. No groceries to buy.
I don’t want to be 17, again. But I’d like to feel free as a bird once more, but safe in a nest. Testing my wings because I’m not sure now if I can fly.
“Anne Shirley, you’re only pretending to be grown up. I believe when you’re alone you’re as much a little girl as you ever were.”
“Well, one can’t get over the habit of being a little girl all at once,” said Anne gaily.
Anne of Avonlea – L. M. Montgomery