If you pie-charted my brain activity right now, this is about how the percentages would work out:
Thinking about The Boy = 50%
Thinking about sappy quotes (which I will share momentarily) = 25%
Trying to choose a college = 10%
Thinking about sleeping = 5%
Wishing that I hadn't eaten sooo much ice cream at dinner = 5%
Wondering what in the hell that noise is = 5%
Honestly, this is what happens at two AM in my house. Unless I'm sleeping (which actually does happen sometimes, I swear) I am up and at my computer, writing and thinking about things that I really should not be thinking about for another twenty years, at least.
The inevitable Have I wasted my life? question comes every freaking day. I don't know why. I do know that an eighteen-year-old girl should not ask herself this question every night. An eighteen-year-old girl should be out with her friends, putting off her homework, watching bad movies, listening to soulless popular music and denying it later, eating pizza and ice cream at every meal, and checking out every cute guy who walks by her friends' table at lunchtime.
An eighteen-year-old girl should not be asking herself Have I wasted my life? when, really, her life has barely even begun.
I also know that I have gone from baring my soul at Coffeehouse (which, really, everyone does, so it's not that big a deal) to baring my soul on my blog, which I happen to know for a fact is frequently checked by some people who a) do not really need to know how my mind works, and b) will make life extremely difficult if they discover how my mind works. I don't know why I choose to deliberately make myself extremely vulnerable this way, whether I'm doing it on my blog or at a Coffeehouse. I don't know what it is about telling people this kind of thing that makes me feel better.
I had a long conversation with my parents earlier about Japan, and whether or not relief is getting to the people who need it. At the moment, things are looking bleak. We can all donate as much as we like, but the truth is, that money is not getting where it needs to go. I want to help, but I want to be smart about it; I don't want to randomly drop quarters into donation boxes when I know that 90% of that money is not going to be used to help people who were left starving and homeless by the earthquake and tsunami.
In 2005 I donated clothes and shoes and toys to the Hurricane Katrina victims. I was twelve years old at the time and could not comprehend the disaster that had affected so many lives (and taken so many lives). I could not understand what it might feel like to lose everything. I recall now that as an innocent twelve-year-old, the prospect of making someone's day was intoxicating. And so when my mother told me that there were people who had lost everything in the hurricane and were ecstatic to get a baggie containing a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and bar of soap, I jumped at my chance to make someone happy and donated a pile of my outgrown clothing, hard as it was for a sentimental, sensitive child like me to give up things that held emotional value. I considered myself a heroine of sorts for doing this.
Now, at eighteen, I know that I am selfish, as are we all--but the difference between a "bad" person and a "good" person is not whether or not they are selfish. The difference is that a truly good person knows how to master that selfishness and tell themselves "no," while others allow themselves to fall victim to that selfishness and give in to that little imp inside themselves that says, "Me first!"
Of course after saying this, I have to jump into a pity party...
There's this boy. How many stories start out this way? There's this boy, and he is perfect. And we are "just friends." I want to be selfish and go after him. (And if he reads this blog, I'm in trouble.) I won't, of course, but you should know that almost every "sappy quote" at the end of this blog post has been inspired by thinking of him (and listening to far too many songs that remind me of him). I've told myself before, "I love [insert name here]" and been hurt. I've told myself that I was "in love" with someone, only to realize with the next fling/crush that I was not "in love" and that person was replaceable.
I hope that I'm lucky and that this is just another crush. But, I have to ask myself...if it's just a crush, what is it worth to me? Is it worth giving him up, for the sake of not destroying my friendship with him? Is it worth telling myself, over and over, "Be strong, be strong, don't chase him, be strong..." because I don't want to alienate him? Is it worth going against my friends' advice and listening to my parents? (My parents read this blog; maybe I shouldn't write that...) Is it worth being unselfish?
In a word: Yes.
Come on, I'm not the only one who has done this, right? I'm not the only one who has insisted, "I'm in love," only to realize they weren't...but, wow, when you did think that, wasn't it amazing? Isn't it so much fun to make yourself pretty before you leave your dorm, just because you might run into that person? Isn't it so much fun to dance around your room singing "Nine in the Afternoon" at the top of your voice? Isn't it so much fun to flash a flirty smile in their direction and wait to see how they respond?
And then reality hits: It's not going to happen. Or, even worse, before you have a chance to find out if it's going to happen, you move on or you forget them. Ouch.
I remember a year ago, at this time (or a little earlier) I was crying over a summer camp boy who had randomly stopped writing to me. I swore he was to blame for every problem I had at school, every problem I had in my dating life. I swore I was in love with him and that I could not live if he did not care about me. I swore he was my first love and that I would never love another boy.
*facepalm*
Now, a year later, there is another boy. And, seeing as this is not medieval times, which means I am not of prime marrying age, I am willing to bet that a year from now there will be another.
Where am I going with all of this? Good question. I think I'm trying to talk myself out of doing something stupid, such as giving him a shout-out on this post or writing him a long, soul-baring email (a waste, considering that I'm already writing a long, soul-baring blog post), or worse, calling him.
I won't. I will stay strong, and I will tell myself that this is just another day, another boy. And I will tell myself that the depression of seeing snow pile up outside my window IN MARCH (really, Michigan? REALLY?) will abate, and I will go shopping for shorts and tank tops in a week, and I will go on my college visits and decide where I will spend the next four years, and in two weeks I will see my friends and I will be happy again.
But for now, all I can do is share my sappy quotes, many of them lyrics, and go to sleep...before my mother comes into my room demanding to know why in the heck I am awake at two...no, now it's three...in the morning.
"Our lives are better left to chance, I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance."
~Garth Brooks
"When it gets cold outside and you've got nobody to love, you'll understand what I mean when I say there's no way we're gonna give up here."
~Maroon 5
"If you're a hand grenade, I'll pull the pin."
~The Almost
"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling."
~Eames from Inception
"Shaking from the pain that's in my head, just want to crawl into my bed and throw away the life I've led, but I won't let it die, I won't let it die!"
~Secondhand Serenade
"We'll set it right...Just let them try to stop us."
~Lyra from The Golden Compass
"Beat but I'm not broken, guide me through with your light. Breathe with your words spoken, show me how to listen."
~Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
"No other road, no other way...no day but today."
~Mimi from RENT
"I'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight..."
~Taylor Swift
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