Friday, April 2, 2010


So I am aware that I have already fulfilled my blogging requirements for this week, but surprisingly tonight I approach this word document and because I actually want to. This is a first; as I will admit that blogging has become a chore in the past couple weeks. But writing always seems to help get things off of my chest, or express something that I could never do in words. When friends or family just don’t seem to understand it seems quite convenient to blog about it.
What started out as quite a wonderful week, ended in utter disaster. I’m not really sure how it happened actually. But just when it seemed like things were going great, everything just collapsed, like things usually tend to in life. I guess it just hurt that much more because I wasn’t really expecting it. At the beginning of the week I took risks and opened myself up, at the end of the week I went back to being a hermit. At the beginning of the week I was constantly smiling and laughing, at the end of the week my cheeks were tear stained. At the beginning of the week, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted, at the end of the week, I realized I couldn’t obtain a single one of those things. Although trust and extroverted-ness are great, I’ve realized they don’t always get you what you want. Trusting people is not easy, and when you finally do it, you generally end up hurt: evidence of this lies in my experiences this past week.
As I sit here and listen to a beautiful version of “Love Me Tender” by Norah Jones, I realize yet another thing this week has taught me; Love does not exist. Nope, the love you see in movies and hear about. That undying love between a husband and wife, or a mother and child, is a bunch of BS. Love is not perfect, it is not kind. It is cruel and honest and brings you back down to earth when you think things are going great. Love gives me hope is probably one of my favorite websites, but to actually believe that some of that stuff happens in real life is ridiculous, miraculous even. And as much as I want to believe in miracles I can’t say that I genuinely do.
Another thing I’ve realized this week: the future and growing up terrify me. Finding out yet another one of your genius friends got into Harvard or Stanford, makes me feel just a little bit more insignificant. It feels as though everyone around me is succeeding, while I am sitting in my small town, proud of myself for being able to manage an A in AP Chemistry. The future billionaires of our world surround me, and I can barely understand derivatives. It terrifies me that I won’t be the person I want to be. It terrifies me that I will disappoint the people who count on me, and myself.

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