I know you're there. Every once in a while, you slip out, and while you're out, I laugh and have fun and do silly, crazy things.
You're the brave one who signed up for Artfest, even though you knew you'd be going by yourself.
You're the one who dreams of high heels and skinny dresses.
You're the one who asks others for favors, even though you know how much I hate asking for help.
And yet, too often, I squish you. If I had allowed it, you would have forced me to go to my mission reunion.
I also would have been a famous author and I would be touring the world right now.
But, more likely, I would have been a starving author. So now I'm a poor teacher. And my family is eating.
Oh, and if it had been up to you, I probably would have waited for "my prince" to come and sweep me off my feet. You know, the kind of love that you read about in books and see in movies, but that isn't real.
And I probably wouldn't be married to the husband/best friend now and I wouldn't have 3 handsome boys.
So, to the real me, I hope we can come to a compromise: I'll let you loose whenever it seems appropriate and I'll let you push me to do things that I want to do but don't have the strength to do on my own. And you'll let me be a responsible adult and you'll let me be happy for the good things I have in my life and you won't pine away for what might have been.