I want to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream for breakfast every morning.
I wonder if it was really Santa that left my presents underneath the Christmas tree.
I hear my friends shouting my name to come play in the sandbox with them.
I see my favorite pasta on the dinner table when I come home from school.
I dream to be able to fly.
I am 4 years old.
I want to learn how to play volleyball like my friends.
I wonder if my parents will let me get a puppy.
I hear the sound of rain crash against the asphalt as I sip the hot chocolate my mom made me.
I see the glass half full instead of half empty.
I dream of making my parents proud.
I am 7 years old.
I want to know what “cancer” is that my parents keep whispering about.
I wonder why bad things happen to good people.
I hear the tremble in grandmother’s voice as she tells me stories while lying in her hospital bed.
I see the tears in my mom’s eyes as she struggles to put a smile on her face after she comes home two hours late.
I dream of going to Stanford University and becoming a surgeon so I can save lives.
I am 10 years old.
I want to go back to bed.
I wonder why I feel so sad all the time.
I hear the girls in my class make fun of the sweater I am wearing that my grandmother bought me.
I see my reflection in the mirror and wish it weren’t there. I dream about the day I don’t feel like this anymore.
I am 13 years old.
I want more time with my friends.
I wonder what it felt like when goodbyes weren’t forever.
I hear my name being called at graduation.
I see my childhood room packed up into a pile of boxes.
I eat mint chocolate chip ice cream for breakfast and dream of being four years old playing in the sandbox again.
I am 17 years old.