So many people stress...
"You need time for yourself."
Skepticism seems to appear on their faces as if they just about know I'm headed somewhere that will only hinder my growth. Growth, what is that? I'm 22, yet I still feel I have so much immaturity left in me. I have no clue, completely bewildered with what direction in life I want to take. I feel almost conquered when people anticipate and seek certain goals and emotions from me. I hate being "molded" or feeling incapable. And I don't know what it is, but I've grown weary in love. I feel almost intoxicated and cynical towards it, as if love could never purely exist, well not romantic love. I feel jaded, as if I have to accept and believe that what I deem perfect for my happiness doesn't exist. Expectations just ruin it all. These past few days, I don't want anything more than giving myself an enormous hug. Simply put, and almost cliche, I just want to be happy...with myself, with school, with my family, and most importantly communing with God. It's as if I'm being forced forward into a life I'm not ready for, a life that I'm not yet willing to have.
Men complicate things. There will always be this want to be longed for, and this want to long for someone. If there's anything I've learned from men, love, and relationships, is that they can be decieving. In actuality nobody is ever really perfect, and no one is ever really what you hope them out to be. Everything, every story, every action is tailored to be presented in a way that is acceptible or admirable, it's a constant want of approval...because in reality, we all don't want to be dissapointed. Words can hit hearts and be bruised forever, actions can dismay our spirits. Nothing is perfect. Perfect doesn't exist. I could never be happy and find what I'm looking for....and my life would be realistically ok. Right now, my life, my heart, my soul doesn't want to revolve around love, not a romantic love, not the love that involves making someone else happy. I'm too selfish to give a love that I don't have enough for myself. I don't want to fight to give it, nor feel like I'm giving up when I don't.
I don't owe anyone. Myself is the most important person. People can claim unfairness in actions and words, but accusing someone of being unfair seems to me the most unfair thing to do. I wish I could have a more positive outlook on things, well actually, I believe I already do. My happiness is not founded upon special moments, love, and what's offered to me, to have what's best for me, but founded upon how I feel about who I am within. And it's with that, that enables my to be truly happy. With that, there's so much in my life that sways me from being focused on just that. I feel everyone is trying to take a piece of me, tugging on my arm, persuading me...when in actuality I just want to stand still, to be followed, to be supported...to be left alone, and to have patience with.
I just want to be happy, to grow uninfluenced.
I need to rethink how I make friends...and keep friends.
What part do I exactly play?
There this petite, little, four year old asian girl in pink pants and a pink shirt, with a pink barette in her hair playing hide and seek with me. She looks so carefree, smiles up to her ears, eyes sparking with life....whoever she is, whoever she belongs to...she's made my day. Though only 3 minutes of giggles and play, she's made me feel what it's like to forget the worries of the day and take time to enjoy a small fraction.
What I would pay to feel that carefree again? I can't remember the last time I ran around with a big smile on my face.
Our experiences from past relationships ripple onto those in the near future. I'm simply afraid of having someone enter my life to give me a several month joy ride of blissful memories and a handful of woo-ful gestures to later then torment me with demands and restraints of one's selfishness.
Sure, not all guys are the same. Though I could safely say that each relationship starts off with a whirlwind of light-headedness and uncontained happiness, celebrating the first kiss, the first date, the first everything, to even go as far as celebrating monthsaries (kill me now) to end in the after 6 month slump, where arguements have seeped in, insecurities begin to shine, and annoyance breaks through. How do people do it? Compromise their lives with another's?
I could not. Well maybe someday, but it seems nothing less than miracle when two people make it work, and thrive in marriage like my own parents. I could not.
I'm simply afraid. Marriage is a serious matter, it's a decision that reflects the rest of your life. If there's anything I've learned from my past relationship, which accumulated to a meaningful but disheartened, somewhat agonizing, 5 years, it's that nothing last forever. Though you may struggle to breathe life into your relationship, it will incessantly cycle till one breaks. And it's this deliberate break that determines the very outcome of two people's compatibility. To endure.
To never give up because to persist means to never fail.
Love, in my book, is to endure.
I wore a miniskirt.
From the moment I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, a sudden risque feeling came over me that made me feel like...not myself, very similar to when my mother first ordered me to wear a training bra instead of my usual undershirt to school. I hated the feeling of that elastic band around my chest and that it meant change.
I'm not one to show off my legs, as white as they are from living in Alaska and never getting sun...why would I? Yet wait, I'm 5'7'' and do have adequate slender legs (mind the few cuts and bruises from hiking), and it's summer surmounting to 88 degrees, so why not? It's not as if I'm wearing a spandex micro-mini which stops just below the buttocks, in fact, mine is denim and falls right about a little over than half my thigh. I wore it together with a sunny yellow tee, blue flipflops, and to add an element of sophistication, a wide headband and pearl earrings.
I thought maybe my uneasiness came from guilt. A couple months ago I ordered my 15 year old cousin to march back into her house to change into something less revealing, I even went so far as threatening to turn it into a hand bag because it was so short and so fitted on her well-rounded trunk. Call me a hypocrite for wearing one.
I guess I could argue that....there are ways to put together an outfit, so that there is still sex appeal and also a component of self-respect. More of the latter of course.
So like my first training bra, it's the change. It's my first mini and that sounds so absurd.
I miss writing these. Slightly revealing a deeper fascinating side of you, a glimpse of that inner chamber of weaknesses, located right behind your heart and in front of your vertebral column, where the emotions seem to always get the best of you. The risk of placing yourself upon a stage, forgetting humiliation, and presenting the opportunity for strangers to stumble upon you, to critic you, to understand you, to level with you.
So a conversation with a bosom friend goes, “I no longer have time for it, since I’ve been in a relationship.” True True, it seems that blogs are meant for single women, who have no one to dish out the musings of their particularly different, yet mundane lives till 2am, instead…we sit at the dawning of a new day in our swivel computer chairs, perhaps lying belly down on our full-size beds made room for one, contemplating, evaluating our lives, trying to leave something profound on the world wide web. Silly isn’t?
I’d rather sit on a comfortable, delicately moss-covered boulder in the misting indigo night of Alaska, laughing with a dear friend, allowing our voices to trail away like the dogsled teams of Nome to neighboring condominiums with open windows (which I have done by the way), sometimes I’d rather be simply with loud friends, loud music, and a thundering atmosphere, but there are some days I’d rather blasts the melodramatic, yet calming, sincere voice of Lea Salonga to inspire me; so that I may use the distinctively unique brain passed down from my giving mother, passionate father, and God’s work of intertwining personally the crossing over phase in the becoming of, well, me. Today is one of those days.
An medulla oblongata (wow, fancy that word?) that allows us to communicate effectively, yet in personally significant ways.
Words written further on will reflect my ambitiousness and interests that varies with every day. Some days, nothing.
and so it begins….
