Close your eyes, and keep them shut. What do you see?

I see a man. Average height. Kind face. He's playing the violin. His eyes are closed, carried away by the melody. I look at him, his figure waving to the vibes he creates, looks like the whole scene is dancing. It's funny but, even though he keeps his eyes closed, I know I'm the one he's smiling at. In a particularly bizarre way, it feels like he is sending the music to my ears directly. I try to take a step and I can see myself walking along a pathway that is constantly undergoing perspective shifts. "Huh, no wonder" I mumble, and move further on. I can see a little girl, timidly humming along to the fiddler's song. I take a step further to get a closer look to the girl. She's dancing clumsily. I can't figure out her face until she tries to make her skirt twirl. I rub my eyes in surprise and recognise my younger self in the little girl's face. She stops to stare at me, her eyes full of wonder, yet also full of acceptance, understanding and forgiveness. Suddenly, I start to weep. Maybe it's the music, I thought to myself. Maybe it's the hormones. I think about it again. I am 21. Am I still so prone to hormonal breakdowns? I don't even feel like I'm 21. Sometimes I still feel 12, or maybe even less.
Maybe it's the dream.
Maybe it's just the way it is.

I wish I could turn 12 again. Just wake up and be a child who's on the tip of the mountain, just about to fall into adolescence, and then crash onto adulthood. And I promise you one thing: If I ever turn 12 again, I won't even think of changing a thing. The only thing that I want to get out of this, is to remember. To re-feel. Relieve myself from the fear that, maybe, I grew up too much, and forgive.

Maybe this is the death of something inside me.
Maybe, this is life.