Saturday, November 19, 2011


"Trying to be a nicer person has made me meaner to myself."


Occasionally I allow myself to care for people indiscriminately. Pros and cons.

I fall in love with friendships all the time. I learned to function inside of those infatuations for so long that I don't know what to do with myself outside of them.


At 19.5 years of age, an age that must differ from person to person (primarily due to varied lacks of awareness that doing so is important), I can officially look back on who I was/how I reacted to things/the courses of action I took and reflect on how I would treat those scenarios differently today. Which is promising, I suppose. My brain chemistry must be fermenting right on schedule.

I look in the mirror and see two people: one girl won't need to be someone's partner ever again, and the other doesn't know how she's gone one short year without existing solely as one. Integrating those identities presents my current internal struggle. I typically settle on the notion that my resolute independence is shaping my future as a whole that functions simultaneously as a half.

Whatever. That's reading as a bunch of heart-on-my-sleeve mumbo jumbo. And if there's one place my heart isn't... you get the picture.