I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but guys, I pass my driving test on my first attempt. (High fives all around!) It’s no secret that I lack motor skills, have poor (almost non-existent) judgment, and am very easily excitable. So this news of my being able to legally drive a manual car surprises everyone, especially my family. My only problem is that I can’t park without an audience of about five strangers gathering around the car to witness my outstanding parking abilities and at least two passengers screaming into my ear “THERE IS A PILLAR! THERE IS A PILLAR! STOP REVERSING! THERE IS A PILLAR!”
I go to Europe. NOTHING IN YOUR LIFE CAN PREPARE YOU ENOUGH FOR EUROPE. RAAAAAAAAA TRALALALALA LAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! I don’t know how Europeans live, honestly. Y’know, maybe that’s why there’s the Euro Crisis going on?
I don’t think too much about it because every other person in their early twenties I know is attending school in some sort of castle, living in far away new places, away from their families and childhood friends, and none of them are dead yet. Hell, I even have friends who begin this amazing journey as young as 14, who are still alive today.
The point I completely miss, is that their main reason for going abroad – or should I say ‘raison d’ètre’, as the French do – is to get an education at a prestigious university. On the other hand, my main reason for going abroad is for an internship (AKA an education in the real world. Whaddup, motherf*cker.). And it’s not even the kind you do for school credits. (HELLO??? Has anyone been paying any attention at all to the story of my life? I graduated last year.) It’s the kind you do after your wise elder brother encourages you to write some emails offering your help to the designers you think are cool.
I don’t know why this idea doesn’t come to me earlier. Actually, it does, and the first people I offer my free labor to are Prada and Louis Vuitton, who give me the cold shoulder treatment. I take it as a personal attack; even though I’m quite sure my emails went straight to their spam folder.
The struggle is REAL in the real world, people. (They don’t call it the real world fer nuttin’.) I struggle to stay alive and I struggle to fit in. Initially, it’s daunting to realize that everything is on my terms now, and for the first time in my life, I’m the boss – OK, not really, but with the Real Boss/my dad being in a different time zone, I kinda am. But then it’s actually very liberating when you start carving out the life you want for yourself. Even if you don’t know what the hell it is that you want in life, carving is so fun, omg!
I cross paths with an endless stream of beautiful and inspiring people, who give me new perspectives and ideas on life and love and everything else. I feel as though I haven’t really lived until now. I wake up every morning feeling stupefied at how big this world actually is.
My relationship with Bryan gets ‘complicated’ and I feel a fleeting pang in my heart for I know that the innocent phase of our life together has passed. There are certain things I know and certain things I don’t. I know that I am in love. And I know that love requires selflessness, because it’s not just about me anymore – it’s about us. But I also know that there are other things I have to see and experience for myself, in order to grow as a person/be certain of myself – not of my love for him, please note – and that is kind of selfish. Do you see the dilemma, the greatest irony of life?
I’ve spent the last decade trying to find the edges of the box I was born into. I’ve made it a point to feel and see as much as I can, and go balls to the wall with everything that I do. I’ve even dedicated the last couple of years to testing myself – seeing how far I can go before retreating back to what feels safe. (Oh…. My…… God……. This is worse than the mystery of the Da Vinci Code.) And I wasn’t about to pull the plug on this project I’d committed practically my whole life prior to this moment, just because I was now in love with not just myself anymore, but also Bryan.
Test: I try MDMA because I want to know if the drug takes my brain and dumps all of its contents out onto an abandoned parking space. Conclusion: IT DOES. I can’t do anything for a day because I’m too busy doing cartwheels and licking my own hair. Test: I hook up with a stranger because I want to know if I can just switch my emotions off and wake up the next morning not hating myself. Conclusion: I CAN’T. No further elaboration required. Test: I hang out with my first ex-boyfriend, who happens to be in London the same time I am, because I want to know if he still has power over me. Conclusion: HE DOESN’T. And I’m reminded of exactly why we broke up in the first place and why we could never be together forever.
Then it occurs to me that maybe there are no edges? You can’t find what doesn’t exist. PLOT TWIST! I realize that every single day, we are defined by our choices. Nothing else. And today, I can say that I no longer feel the need to test myself as much because I’m not in denial or in doubt about who I truly am. I know my limits, because I decide what my limits are. I know what feels right and seeking out the bad stuff just doesn’t feel thrilling anymore. In fact, it just feels like crap. Some of us learn the hard way. Exhibit A: Yours truly. (But we learn it well.)
The moral of the story is, don’t fall in love when you’re young. Just keep playing with your stuffed animals and plush toys. It’s much less ‘complicated’. Seriously though, don’t fall in love before you figure out who you are. Best of luck to the clueless who are trying to incorporate a whole new person into the picture with them. (This is SO WEIRD. I hope my mom never reads this; otherwise she’ll be so pissed. She’s fed me this piece of advice like, 3 million times since my first boyfriend. I obviously never listened. But here I am now, preaching like I came up with it.)
Unfortunately, it’s never that simple in reality. If we could decide exactly when, where, how and who we fall in love with, do you think we’d have any movies or songs written? Nobody would pray and God would probably be bored to death watching everyone live their lives happily ever after.
Love just happens. (Kinda like how shit just happens, hey?) Sometimes, love happens without warning, in the most inconvenient of situations, under the most trying and testing circumstances. But do you know when I think love really likes to happen? It likes to happen when we aren’t ready for it, completely unequipped, and usually there’s no user guide provided. (Gee, that’s really thoughtful of you, Love.) Because that’s when it is the most pure, it’s when it could really grow into something beautiful. Now I’m not saying all love will definitely evolve into something marvelous. You reap what you sow, people. C’mon! Be real, stay with me.
So… What then?
I honestly don’t know, actually. If I did then I probably wouldn’t have slipped into this deep state of uncontrollable, circumstantial depression from which I may or may not ever recover from. I think it’s like that quote, “sometimes good things fall apart so that better things can fall together.” It’s about being understanding, as you give each other space to figure out who you are as individuals. It’s about not pointing fingers and walking away.
I get that ‘waiting’ is frowned upon in today’s modern society. Instant gratification, instant noodles, Instant Messenger, Instagram. (OMG, don’t get me started on how much I LOVE it.) We hate waiting for the bus (because we’re better than that), we hate waiting for that video you just posed on Facebook to load (because we’re better than that), and we definitely hate waiting for people (because we’re better than that). Are we really? Or are we just impatient? What’s a few years (maximum 2, Bryan. Just kidding???? Not really. I’m being serious now. Don’t be a dipshit about it.) of being apart? Because y’know, when it’s for real, it’s forever. And my favourite part about this: If it comes back to you, it’s yours to keep. (And if it doesn’t, he’s just a stupid moron.)
However, there is a difference between a person who is learning and a person who is just playing games. Some need to experience certain things and allow themselves to grow and change so that they are more prepared to embark on that long-term commitment. Others just want to make sure there’s nothing better out there and then crawl back to you when they don’t find anything but syphilis and gonorrhea. (Believe me, they will. Why do you think my ex-boyfriends still talk to me and are the first people to wish me a happy birthday, after I put them in the ground and they’re supposed to be dead now? Just kidding!)
It’s a fine line between the two but you will know. Just trust your intuition, it’s much more reliable than what you give it credit for.
OH MY GOD. So many words already, and I haven’t even got to the part about quitting my dream job, which is going to take another eternity to explain.
I have the attention span the length of an eyelash, so it doesn’t take me very long to learn what I like and dislike. To add to that, my gut instincts are never wrong. I never ignore it because it’s like a cheat sheet for my life. It’s the only thing that will never fuck me over. Now you’re probably in shock and think I’m crazy for quitting my first real job just two months into it, based on the aforementioned reasons. Don’t be, it’s not good for your heart. I’ve always been erratic, wayward, and unpredictable. So don’t worry, I’ve got this. But because none of you actually gave birth to me and/or brought me up, I will give you an abridged version: Whatever is good for your body and soul, do that. Love and respect yourself enough to walk away from something that no longer serves you, grows you, or makes you happy.
After all, life is simple. Don’t overthink it. Right, baby bug?
