I’m biting my nails and ripping off my nail polish because I don’t know what you’re asking of me. I can sit here and pout when things don’t go my way but I can also question your intentions. I don’t know if it’s luck, or it has to do with religion, or if it’s because whatever you put out into the world you’ll get back, but if we’re all following the same path shouldn’t there be an end result….that’s balanced? Shouldn’t there be balance.
How is it that we study for hours on end, and we don’t get the grades we want? Why must we spend hours awake, over-caffeinating, breaking out, and still manage to get mediocre grades that attempt to define us?
How is it that we fight everyday, and only see a result when somebody else points it out or criticizes it? When did we stop doing things for ourselves, and doing things for a reaction, or for someone else’s satisfaction.
How can we romanticize the notion of being an object to someone, and finally stop settling for something we wouldn’t want our daughters/sons to ever go through? How do we decide that it’s enough, and close the damn book.
How do we do it? How are we so unhappy with our appearances that we’re screaming for some change, and ache when we don’t get it. Physical changes don’t happen overnight, and if you’re working more on yourself internally, the rest will come naturally.
How do we accept the notion that being single in the 21st century is a privilege, because we get to spend the next handful of decades or so waking up to someone that accepts every single fibre of our being. But how do we also accept the fact that sometimes we want that person to lean on at the end of the day when we can no longer carry ourselves. How do we fight to be loved, but fight to be dependant on ourselves.
We get up out of bed, we get dressed, we put on something that’s going to make us feel good. We wear makeup, or we don’t. We hop into the shower, we’re clean, and we spend the rest of the day doing what we need to do because it’s our routine, because it’s our role as human beings to show up to work, to school, to chat and have coffee with your friends, to go home and do it all again.
Or we get up out of bed, and we decide when we should start our day, or if we should start again tomorrow. If we put on what we wore yesterday, or make an effort and mask your external persona. We go to the bank, and focus on financial stability. We text our friends and let them know we’re on our way, we think of our parents, we listen to music that goes with our moods, we pick up coffee, we look at our grades and don’t feel any bit of satisfaction, we call our best friends and let them know that we’re thinking of them, and hope they’re happy. We question if everything we’re doing is enough, and at 1:30pm, on a Wednesday, we allow ourselves to get emotional and refuse the idea of suppressing and repressing everything we feel because it is a privilege to feel.
I thought about my parents
I thought about my essays, and assignments and whether or not they’re good enough
I thought about what constitutes as being good enough
I thought about you, and realized that I am good enough. For myself.
And I’ll continue to think, and share my thoughts and opinions with you unapologetically and recklessly.
I may question the universe’s intentions but I will not let it control where it takes me.
Because I’m here, I’m here.
Exactly where I’m supposed to be.