It almost makes me feel nostalgic. Old. TOO old.
Something about surpassing the age of YA characters gives me a feeling of sadness, like I’m growing up. OBVIOUSLY I’m growing up, but it’s more like I’m getting rid of my training wheels on a bicycle, you know? Even freakier for me is becoming OLDER than the characters I read about. I’m scared I’m going to get tired of YA soon, and move onto Adult fiction. I LOVE MY ANGSTY TEENS THOUGH.
“How old are you?” — “Seventeen.”
I’m at that point in my life where I feel like I’m almost outgrowing some YA characters. A lot of the time I’m rolling my eyes at how immature they can be, and other times, I feel like, “DANG, SHOULD I BE SAVING THE WORLD TOO?”
I can’t picture being older than eighteen. What will I be reading at that age? New Adult? I mean yes, that genre is for new adults, but… I’ve gone through that phase and I don’t really see myself going back to all of those steamy New Adult books, maybe only from time to time.
Honestly, this post has just been me freaking out internally about how I’M FREAKING THE SAME AGE AS THE CHARACTERS I READ ABOUT. I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say.