Saturday's Storyteller: Ten Years
Ten Years by Belinda Roddie Ten years of wearing rainbows on my sleeves. Ten years of not feeling sour on Valentine's Day. Ten years of wandering far from university. Ten years of wondering if I'm doing it right. Ten years of love and work and smiles and tears. Ten years of new horizons and discoveries. Ten years of unexpected twists and turns. Ten years of, surprisingly, no gray hairs. Let's make it ten more years. And then ten more after that. And then ten more after that. And then ten more after that. And then ten more after that. And then ten more after that. And then ten more after that. And maybe even ten more, if I'm lucky. Because here I am, eating capellini and drinking red wine. Here I am, exploring a new city in the drizzle of February's eyes. Here I am, dressing up in costumes and playing pretend. As if I never ever grew up. Not that I ever wanted to. Here I am. Here I am. Ten years later.
