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16
This is it. The big night. Birthday eve.
As a young child, I would lay in bed, unable to sleep with the anticipation of being fawned and fussed over the following morning. A day all to myself, for everyone to see me and be captivated by what they saw.
Why is tonight different? Why am I unexcited? I sit here writing this letter, and it feels like a normal night. Where did that child in me go? Why am I cynical, skeptical, jaded? Why does my mind feel so much older than my body? Why do people still treat me like a child? I want to be independent, but I want to be Daddy's little girl forever.
Why am I a bundle of contradictions on this night I should be enchanted and excited by? They say 'One year older and wiser too'... But each passing year only leaves me with more questions.
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