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Writer's pictureThe Damsel

Feeling Neverland

     Colleges have begun to flood my email and snail mail with information about their programs. They send me explanations of why their program is "just right" for me.  Many of my good friends have already moved off to college, or to go on two year missions for our church. And as these two things align, I realize an ever growing fear.  A fear of growing up.


     I don't mean I have a fear of growing old. Age is superfluous in my mind. I don't fear my face being lined with wrinkles, nor my hands becoming blemished and shaking. What I fear is having to leave my childhood home, leaving friends for college, and forgetting to enjoy simple things because of responsibility. To fear. It hurts. 


Anxiety runs like veins 

Like nerves 

Linked to brain 

To heart

Pushing to be known 

Running on it's own

Logic wishing to call

But the feeling coursing 

Love being twisted

To fear and ache

Happiness being turned

To withered leaves

Ready to fall

My heart

Yearns and calls

Into the chasm 

Of faith

And somewhere

The thread is tied

I hold 

Despite 

The pain of fear

The pain of anxious everything

Poem 214 ~ 3/18/2015


     I feel like Wendy Darling. One foot in the nursery, and one out the door. Stuck on the stories, playtime, and dreams of childhood. Yet, working on gaining a career, living on my own, and attempting to become a thoughtful adult. In some ways I am ready to move into the world. Still in others... I'm trying to find Neverland.


The draw of stuck time pulls, but the reality of moving through life appeals. I may feel Neverland wishing to be near. But to grow up, that shall be my awfully big adventure. 


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