I turn to my walk-in closet and head towards it to get dressed quickly. Pulling on a short jersey dress and leggings, I stand to stare at my shoulder-length blonde hair and big bright blue eyes, no longer seeing a child gazing back from my makeup-free face. In the last few months, I seem to have aged a little, maybe it’s fatigue and my hangover, but I do not look as childish as I did. Perhaps it’s my hair, the slight weight I lost from not eating properly when I was living in heartbreak, ...