One day, I realized that we are both the epicenter of our own dramatic delusions. I don’t want to hear about yours, because to me they are petty. And you don’t want to hear about mine because you won’t stop talking about yours long enough to ask me if I’m considering suicide.
It would be nice if you asked though, just to check, once in a while. How can you tell a person that the biggest problem in their life is them? They’re always wondering why people treat them the way they do and why things never go their way, when to others it’s painfully obvious. However hard to tell them that they stand in their own way.
Unfortunately, I feel that is a common occurrence these days. We all get in our own way.
So I ask “how was your day” and her answer is always the same “meh. fine.” Most days, that is the end of my involvement in the conversation. If a person continually, day after day chooses to a) not do anything with their life or b) refuse to see the beauty in life then I refuse to let that person be a part of my beautiful life.
She goes on for what could be hours listing all the things that are wrong in her life including a list of ailments she has and all the doctors she has to see. Meanwhile insisting that she never gets sick and doesn’t know what is wrong. It’s always something different but it is always something.
You spend too much of your time looking up how to get to places on maps. Just Go.
The 21 year old kid offered her expert opinion once “she’s scared of life.” I had to hold my laughter back. It was one of the funniest statements I’ve ever heard. It is not too far off but it is just so absurdly brilliant. How can a person living “life” be absolutely debilitatingly scared of it? But it’s true. She is
The hilarity of the statement comes also from the fact that the 21 year old kid is as equally scared of her own life. Her possibility, her potential. She floats through life on an easy cloud right now because she can – she’s 21. No one expects a 21 year old to be something except for a young person trying to discover themselves. The horrible truth will smack her in the face in a few years when she realizes that she is just like everyone else her age and she could have been closer to where she wants to be if she had only started now.
I remember being the youngest person in my writing classes by 5-8 years. A big deal, in your twenties. But I never liked the feeling of running a race and being so far ahead that I feel like I’m doing it wrong. So insecure, unsure that I’d have to stop to look behind me to make sure we’re still racing. The time it takes me to stop to check up on the people behind me, they pass me. So there I am, stuck, getting passed by everyone else in the race I was just winning. And now I feel behind.
I got lost, distracted, off course. I stopped my sprint toward the finish line to smell the roses and have some experiences. It’s broadened my life and I have no regrets, however now I’m 28 and scared… It’s not the life in general that I’m scared of. I can be happy. I am happy. I keep telling people I don’t want to hear their problems because I have my own, when that’s a lie. I don’t really have problems. I have worries and a concern or two, but I am literally living a very easy life right now. AND. I. HATE. IT.
I like the challenge, the struggle – the feeling that I worked really hard for something so I can tell myself that I enjoy the payoff more. It’s not fair. I should be able to enjoy it just because it’s enjoyable. It’s a fine line between that awareness and self-righteous conceit. I know with all my heart that the things I want to happen for me this year will.
My roommates (the aforementioned) drive me crazy. I don’t hate them, and when I’m not surrounded by them I don’t think about them. It’s not a problem, it’s an observation to me now. I’m on to the next step in my life. There are 4 of us that live in this apartment and 2 have been drastically affected by that fact. Whereas I, along with the 21 year old, seem to drift in and out of the apartment conscious. She’s busy being 21 and doing whatever 21 year olds do these days. I’m busy gathering strength for my next step.
I had a job interview last week, which I have yet to hear back from. Walking in to the hotel I could have told you that I wouldn’t be offered the position. It’s not what I want. The paycheck I do want, but I don’t want the job and commitment when I have very little interest in fulfilling my obligation. My heart and head is in writing these days. I’m not going to make money at it for a while, so these are what will be referred to as the dark days. The days where there was no pay out or instant gratification. The only gratification is knowing that I’m skimping by financially so that my soul can flourish creatively. This. Is. The. Life. and I’m exactly where I need to be to be living it.
2 thoughts on “You don’t need a weather man to know which way the wind blows.”
I really like this. I can honestly say after reading this, I too can say “this is the life, and I’m exactly where I need to to be, to be living it. You inspire me! You have so much beauty just pouring out of you! Never stop writing, you were meant to inspire, to help, to love, and so much more. These are some of the many things your writing does for me.
Thanks mama! ❤