People I Used to Be

People I Used to Be

Gianna DeMarco

I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be.

The four year old who rides on her father’s shoulders unapologetically at the summer shore-house, staring up at the fireworks that crackle in the sky and grant her world with a sense of wonder she’ll never meet again.

The sixteen year old who sits in her best friend’s basement and cries about the day’s woes, her fears, her discontentment with those around her. Not knowing that friend will be gone as soon as they came, shutting her out, replicating the behavior of those her tears were dedicated to.

The eighteen year old who has yet to feel loss; who stands in a kitchen peeling potatoes for the Christmas that will never come, although she is wholly unaware of that.

The nineteen year old of yesterday, a girl who wants to restart and try it all again. Someone who wants another chance to perfect it, to make it right.

But that is, as they say, another story