My World Is Getting Smaller and Smaller

Eighteen years flew past so abruptly. Just when I felt I had recognition of my existence, the oldest child was already receiving his diploma. The wonders of crawling across the carpet floor, mixed with new bitter responsibility. Each one grew up, successfully escaping torment of the elders, but I was still crawling up to my ranks. I am an eighteen year old child.

Taking responsibility is not an easy task for the youngest child. Everything was handed to me like I was Cesar on his throne. I did not dare hesitate to ingest every grape that was hand-fed to me. Grape by grape, I let work and socializing be handed down to me. I chewed every fresh grape until all that lay were empty vines. The treatment vanished and I did not comprehend why.

Junior High definitely brought me to harsh reality. I could not rely on my siblings to socialize because they were gone. I could not expect people to like me right away. I had no real entourage to prove my significance. I did not feel I needed to meet new people because I was not accustomed to it. Nor did I know I would have to in order to survive those three years. Girls were definitely and odd experience for me at that age. I had been nervous around them in grade school; experiencing weird attachments towards certain girls gave me anxieties. I was never really confident with the way I appeared, and I also did not have enough insight on how to independently approach a person of interest. My quiet behavior sent some conspicuous gestures to others. I would not doubt people thought I was a creep. However, I was just incapable of thinking for myself. Incapable of being my own person. They may have seen a creepy kid unable to respond, but I was not there. I was still crawling across the floor, not knowing there were stairs ahead of me.

By the time I moved up to high school, it felt like everyone from my graduating class was a step ahead of me. They were skipping up the stairs; I was still searching for them. I nearly had a social life, and I again was dependent on the few ones I still had to introduce me to new friends. I finally found an opportunity to get a girlfriend freshman year and make the freshman basketball team. I had finally found the stairwell. But with each step up I dealt with an increase in responsibility and consequences. I found a way to get a girl, but I didn't know anything about a relationship. My selfish past made me only care about the treatment I once received. I did not care about anyone else then, and change was too much work for a king. Even when I made the basketball team, what I had been training for all my eighth grade summer, my desire for the sport diminished when I had to deal with bitter responsibilities of grueling practice. These years past by and my body grew older, but it meant nothing to me because I was still stuck on the same stair.

The thought of college fascinates me. But have I grown up enough yet? I sense myself growing more independent each day. I found more directions-more stairs-for my life. These are the first few years where I actually enjoy the frustration of school, the problem solving, and the balancing of responsibilities. I feel more optimistic than ever, and more passionate about my everyday vicinity. I am eighteen years old, and I learned how to walk.