Wandering through fields of corn, brushing her hands against the textured edges of the stems, the feelings she got from the deep yellow of the corn and the breeze blowing her dress up slightly were the only things that mattered in the world. Nothing else seemed significant or comparable at that moment.

She would sit on a swing all alone and fly through the sky, believing nothing would make her feel that way again. She felt so free and weightless, the back and forth motion calming her. She saw the birds flying above her, their dark wings creating beautiful contrast against the bright sky. She wanted to be them. They were able to go wherever they wanted with no restraint. They held the freedom she felt.

When she was young, she would think about all the things that grown-ups got to do. She wanted to do those things too. She wanted to be in charge; she wanted to drive a car; she wanted to fall in love. But most of all, she wanted to be able to do whatever she wanted.

Now that she is fourteen years old, she realizes that the things grown-ups do aren’t always as spectacular as she imagined them to be. Being an adult is hard, and the closer she comes to being one, the more she wishes she could go back to thinking that running through corn fields and flying on swings was the best feeling in the world.

Now, she is sitting in class and learning about things that might never be important and things that might be the most important. The most important things now are acing tests and passing classes. The most fun things are talking to people or reading.

What she experiences now is nothing like what she did years ago. The world full of bright colors has been tainted by truth, and she wishes she could go back to loving the little things. She wishes she could go back to viewing everything as the most amazing thing.

She looks back and laughs at seven-year-old her for the enjoyment she got from watching the clouds pass. Secretly, she aches to feel the awe she felt at that age. She aches to watch the clouds pass in wonder.

She knows that she could try to appreciate the little things, but the little parts of life get lost in the big parts of life. She enjoys pretending that she notices and appreciates the little things, but she craves to actually appreciate them.

She says that pretty flowers, beautiful sunsets, and flurries of snow are enough for her to enjoy, but she doesn’t believe they are. Little her would be disappointed in the fact that her outlook on life has changed. She would never have wanted her to look at things differently.

So, she decides to run through cornfields, sit on a swing, and look up at the birds hoping that it will make her appreciate all of the little things because she knows it is important.