I envy the little girl with the red pigtails who rides her sparkly pink bike down the street. She doesn’t have to think about the fact that maybe life won’t get better. She doesn’t have to worry about anything other than the friends she loves so much. Maybe those will always be her friends. Probably not. Sometimes she wears puffy tutus or cowgirl boots and I envy her courage. If I did that I would probably get laughed at but she doesn’t care. She cares about the way the sun shines and how the fireworks on the 4th of July are too loud. She goes to the pool with her dad to swim and have fun. She doesn’t have to worry about the way her ruffly one-piece doesn’t look like the other girl’s bikinis, or how her chlorinated hair falls into place. She wears a Minnie Mouse watch and doesn’t have to worry about the fact that the other girls have creamy nice apple watches. She just doesn’t care. She lives her life every single way I regret not doing. Not even trying. I envy the little girl with the red pigtails who rides her sparkly pink bike down the street. She doesn’t have a worry in her.
