I worry about it everyday. When I leave for work. When I come home. When she gets off the bus. When she does homework. I worry that I put too much on her, too much responsibility, rely on her too much, give her too much trust. I worry that I don’t give her enough of all the other things. I worry that she slides by without her needs and wants being noticed, and when one day they do become noticed, it will be too late. I worry that she needs something that she isn’t getting. Or shes getting something she doesn’t need. I worry shes growing up too fast, without anyone there to show her the ropes and no one there to understand what SHES going through. I worry that someday I will wake up and see her, grown and gone. Without paying any attention to the middle grounds of growing up. I worry that shes already grown up, and forgotten what its like to be a kid again. Even though she isn’t exactly a kid…or a grown up.
I worry when she talks back, that maybe I gave her too much of something, or took something, or don’t know what really. I just worry. That I havent given HER what SHE needs…because in all honesty, I don’t know what she needs…and I don’t know how to give it to her.
Shes growing up, stepping out, talking back, and extending her view to other places. Shes not a kid. But shes not an adult. Shes barely 13, yet almost 14. Shes older than she is, and knows more than she should…
But I don’t think Im cutting it anymore. Not that I ever DID “Cut it” before.
She needs a mom, she needs her mom. She needs a dad, her dad. And I am neither. I am not her mom, or her dad. I am nothing. I cant give her what she needs when I don’t know what she needs. School stories are so yesterday. Telling me her secrets is so old fashion. Talking about her problems is old school. Rolling her eyes, and giving attitude is in theses days, and while Im told its all normal, everyday, teenage stuff…
I worry that one day she will sneak out the bedroom window, or worse, walk out the front door with paying no attention to my worries and wonder. I worry that she will think she needs something she doesn’t, and try and find something in nothing. I want to tell her to be careful, but I know she wont listen. And if she does listen, she wont hear. Shes got a good head, and is smart. She is friendly and kind, and all about making people happy.
Shes also 13 going on 30.
A number that sends shivers down my spine. I fear these next few years. Years that are unknown. Numbers that seem so old.
I love her, beyond words. But love isn’t enough. I know this. She needs more. She needs something…and I don’t know how to give it to her…because I don’t know what it is. Ive never claimed to understand her mind, Ive never claimed to know what girl thinks, needs, or knows. But here it is, facing me, staring me down, EXPECTING me to know. To give her what she needs. Ive stumbled through this far, Ive forced my way through, and pretended to know…
But its not enough anymore.
She needs more. Even if she doesn’t know she does.