When I was a year old, I probably threw my food around, maybe started walking but I am sure I cried a lot. My mum told me.
When I was two years old, I ran around the house, talked to myself and my imaginary friends, spent a lot of time infront of the mirror and with my dolls and cried when my brother went to school.
When I was three years old, I cried because I had to go to school.
At four, I lost a sweater, lost at the candy race, sulked when I got no medals in the Annual function and slow danced with a guy who would just not keep his hand at my waist.
At five, I changed cities, did not complete studies at 1st grade and missed my dad a lot.
At six, I knew all the show timings of Cartoon Network. And Shahrukh Khan was my favourite actor.
At seven, I started in a new school and felt like an outcast which made me awkward.
At eight, I was not allowed to meet my dad who was in a different state because my grades dropped.
At nine, I found my idol in my 5th grade class teacher, wanted to go catch all the Pokemons and stopped sleeping with my parents.
At ten, I was introduced to Harry Potter, got slapped by my Maths teacher, had my first crush on a guy and I started swimming the crimson wave.
At eleven, I spent my lunch breaks mostly alone, I hated the girl upstairs and made collages with pictures of celebrities.
At twelve, I met my best friends, came to know about sex and read my first erotica.
At thirteen, I was obsessed with high school teen movies, american pop stars and Sidney Sheldon novels.
At fourteen, I could talk to my best friends forever without a moments silence, had my first boyfriend and butterflies in my stomach. Then I broke up.
At fifteen, internet was new to me, I had my first kiss and vouched that a guy would never make me cry.
At sixteen, I went into depression and was too stressed with boards to participate in any shenanigans.
At seventeen, I started college. It was a crappy year. But met some really cool people. And had my first drink.
At eighteen, I got my hair cut way too many times, was the biggest bitch to a friend, started my blog and just let myself be.
At nineteen, I hit my desperation point, broke my own rules more than once, cried for the major part of the year. But at the end realized it was just as it was supposed to be.
And at this moment, now that I am twenty, I feel numb and way too clueless. I’m floating through.