On November 27th I turned nineteen. All of my younger cousins think its hilarious and kept saying I was getting old. I don't feel old, in fact I still feel like I'm six years old and should be playing in the mud instead of going to college like a responsible adult. It is however, somewhat daunting to think that by this time next year I will be in my twenties. What is even stranger is to think that my sister, Becca, was already married with a kid when she was my age. Part of me wants that life, but another part of me wants to enjoy my last year as a teenager. I think if I wanted to get married I would be mature enough to handle being a wife and mother, but I don't think I do want that. Not for a while anyway. Being at college has completely changed my entire perspective on life. Before, I was content with the idea that when my missionary boy came home I would marry him and start a life while trying to juggle college somewhere in there, but now everything I thought I knew doesn't make as much sense. I don't think I want to marry Chris. Not any time soon, that is. If I could stick him in the freezer like you would a turkey and save it for when you want it that would be great, but unfortunately boys and the world do not work that way.
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