A New Year. Jan 2010.

I turn 22 soon, and it is the strangest feeling.

I remember as clear as crystal being 10. Before the harshness of puberty had made its demands upon my life and body. Where everything was simple, and I still claimed some essence of innocence and sweet ignorance.

In hindsight I can see that even then there were hints at what and how I would change. 12 years on and I have seen more than I would ever have wanted myself to see. I always wanted to be wise, and educated. I never realised that this education and wisdom would come from pain.

I have broken hearts, my own being one of them.
I have witnessed death, and not quick death, but a slow and painful loss of all that it means to be alive.
I have seen and experienced depression, loss, hurt, shame, disgust, the list could go on.

I am not innocent, I am not wise. I am not ignorant, and I am not educated.

I am experienced and I do not regret it, or wish it otherwise. But I often wish that I could relive the summer of my tenth year to savour the feeling of not knowing.