I want to be a kid again.

Stubborn. Happy. Naïve.

Curious. Mischievous. Childish.

Creative. Loving. Forgiving.

Innocent. Carefree.

I want to go back to believing in everything and knowing nothing.

I want to be a kid again.

Why?

Because I miss the times things were simple.

Less complicate. Annoying. And tiring.

I miss the way I took pleasure in small things. Like getting an extra-scoop of chocolate ice-cream. Eating candy before dinner. Staying up late during a school night. Running barefoot through the warm summer grass. Watching the sunset and sunrise. Getting a piggyback ride from my dad. Reading a bed-time story with my mom. Holding her hand while in the mall. Playing soccer with my brother. Pulling pranks on the grown-ups. Building a tree-house. Looking at the starry night sky. Going camping. Learning how to swim…

And the list goes on.

I miss those days. I really do.

Back then, there were no worries. No expectations. No responsibilities. No heartaches. No sorrows. No hurt. Just plain fun and innocence.

But eventually I had to grow up,

We all do,

Unfortunately.

Year 2017,

“What brings you here?”

A scoff, “As if you don’t know”

The man titled his head to the side, “I don’t”

The girl smirked, crossing her legs over each other, “The answer is quite simple really. Why do you think people seek therapy? It’s because they’re either depressed. Suicidal. Lost. Hurt. Now, out of these four options which one do you think fits me best?”

The therapist raised an eyebrow, amusement lurking around the corners of his mouth, “I see you’ve got a peculiar sense of humor”

The brunette looked at him in mock surprise, “Really? I had no idea”

His eyes studied her for a long moment, “Why are you here Nam Haneul?”

The said girl raised an eyebrow, taunting him, challenging him, “Guess”

He remained unfazed, dark eyes fixated on her own hazel orbs, “I’d rather you tell me”

Her lips turned into a distinct pout, “You’re no fun”

A flicker of amusement flashed through his eyes, “I’m not supposed to be”

A snort, “Well I’m sure you’ve dealt with cases similar to mine”

Most definitely.

“Care to elaborate?”

A grin, “Gladly”

She clasped her hands together and slouched back in her seat, “See doc, I’m not here because I want to, I’m sure you can tell. And if things had gone the way I planned I wouldn’t have been here in the first place but sadly they didn’t. They never do”

Ever.

Her grin widened, “I’m here for the most cliché reason ever”

While her eyes were empty, bottomless and hollow, “I’m here because I tried to commit suicide”

She clicked her tongue and shook her head, “But I failed. Even in that I failed, how pathetic”

Ugly. Fat. Utter disappointment. Waste of space. These are the words – correction – insults that were directed to Haneul on a daily basis.

No, she did not fit in with society’s ludicrous definition of beauty. She wasn’t stick-thin. She didn’t have a pale complexion. Nor did she have doll-like features. She had huge thighs. Bronze skin. A stubby nose. Chubby cheeks. And a large waist. She wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t ideal. And everyone kept on reminding her of that. Every single one.

Especially her mother.

That woman would never fail to remind her of how heavy she was. Insisting that she should stop inhaling huge amounts of food, although that same woman was the one who used to stuff her with that godly quantity ever since she was a child.

Funny, huh?

She would constantly nag about the fact that she couldn’t find decent clothes that could fit her daughter’s heavy build. Envying the mothers who had thin girls since they could dress them as they please, mold them as they want. But she couldn’t. Because Haneul wasn’t like other girls. She wasn’t. She never was. (And she never will be)

They say the love a mother has for her child is unlike any other. Since it knows no law. No pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

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