Today is one of those days. I feel restless, wound up, stuck in quicksand, caged. Perhaps I feel like this because I’ve been stuck in a routine for too long. Perhaps I feel like this because I haven’t been out of town in too long. Perhaps I feel like this because last night I was reading Angela Tung’s memoir and although her experience teaching abroad in China was full of culture shock and homesickness, it only made me yearn for foreign land and clashing cultures. Perhaps I need to stop eating lunch at Panera every day–it just happens to be the closest restaurant to my French class that provides internet.
I yearn for travel, for the unknown, for the unexpected. I yearn to be Rebecca, responsibilities postponed indefinitely. Rebecca, passions unbridled. Rebecca, because she darn well feels like it. I know, immature of me, right? How naïve of me, right? Oh, there’s no way I’d just take off right now. There was a time when I would have, would have said to heck with this all and fled without glancing back. No, I’m not that person anymore. But I miss her sometimes.
I miss being able to drop the chains society forces upon me. I miss being able to wear my own skin and nothing more. I miss being able to follow my whims. Clearly, I just miss being a kid. Clearly, I’m 5’5” (okay fine, 5’4.5”), 19 years old (as of last week), and running my own business—not a kid at all. There’s a kid in me, though. I wonder: when is it okay to let yourself be a kid? When is it okay to relinquish your responsibilities, if for only a day? Does all that end once you hit adulthood?
Those of you who have traveled the road of adulthood longer than I, tell me: when do you get to be a kid? Please don’t say never; I think I would be quite devastated.