I can’t even write about you. That’s when you know it’s bad. When the story I’ve been working on for years, suddenly seems like trash because it’s written about you.
You and your inconsiderate heart, me and my vulnerable soul.
That’s what this story seems to be about.
But, I can’t keep playing the victim. I chose to be broken by you. I searched for someone like you, to release all of the demons I had hiding so deeply within me.
So, I feel like this story may have changed its purpose in my life. No longer am I romanticizing you and our crazy, reckless, inconsistent love. It is a story of a girl and boy who broke each other and could never be the same again.
I want to talk about growing up. I type this out as I lay on my bed feeling sand in between my toes, sprinkled all over my sheets from the other night I went to the beach and was too lazy to take a shower before face planting into my pillow.
Being in your 20s is such a weird feeling, but a good one. I think back to when I was a teenager and remember how much it sucked. Feeling so confused about your social life, boyfriends, high school, who you were going to be, but young enough to find ways to avoid such feelings.
In your 20s you’re actually somewhat forced to figure that all out, if you’re lucky. You’re forced into deciding what is right for you. The people, where you live, academics, your job, finances and a way of life. It all suddenly becomes detrimental to your overall happiness. It’s not as easy to get by with skipping classes to go steal a bottle from the nearest grocery store and get drunk with you best friend at a park while chain smoking cigarettes. Yes, that was my life in high school. Booze, stealing whatever the hell I wanted, smoking til I coughed up my lungs and hanging around people who had the same bad habits as I did. Now it’s like whatever I do actually has some kind of purpose.
I hope everyone has this realization eventually. That what we decide to do with our lives actually matters. Despite us being only individuals, a single person probably making a very tiny, limited impact to the world around us–we still manage to have a purpose.I’m just starting to find my own. I’m starting to cultivate reasons for my existence and that’s what becoming an adult is. It isn’t about paying bills, finding a job or starting a family. It’s so much more than that. It’s creating yourself. You get this amazing opportunity to make yourself into whoever you want to be.
Being young is fun. It’s so freeing to be able to not care. To not give a shit what other people think or what your future may entail. But, being able to try, to care, to give in and finally give a damn about where you may end up gives you so much strength. So, even though I still manage to act like a child every so often by jumping into the ocean one night only to find myself covered in sand and with a full face of makeup when I wake up in the morning, I still want to grow. I want to grow up. I want to give into the pressures of society, while still managing to create myself into someone greater than I could’ve ever imagined when I was 16.