Saturday, May 26, 2012

This is Really About...

Growing old is like a new song on the radio -- you hear one time and don't realize it, you hear it often enough and it creeps up on you. Next thing you know, you're singing it to yourself in the shower.

Okay, that's a very bad, nay useless, metaphor. It's 1 in the morning and my head is bursting to the seams with thoughts that run amok in your head when you let the reins go in the wee hours of the morning. I feel like I have to write my thoughts down but I haven't decided yet how intimate, personal, and embarrassing I will allow this post to be.

I guess my thoughts are just looking for an audience. I'm just not sure yet how much audience I can handle. I am sure I am definitely not word vomiting everything to a very very naked Facebook post. Cryptic tweets, maybe. Or if I can stay up long enough for it, an unusally naked blog post.

Hold on to your seats. Intimate and embarrassing word/feelings/secret secrets vomit in 3..2..1.

I feel alone. I feel like like that kid in class with no group during groupings. For the toy junkies, like that piece of lego you have no idea where to put after you finish building your pretty house. For the word nerds, like a dangling modifier. And just to satisfy that longing in me to add one more comparison, like that English-speaking tourist in a busy alley in Chinese-speaking Hong Kong.

It's not that there is a lack of company to merit the feeling of being alone. There are lots of people, actually. Friends and family and very nice people around me who never fail to make me feel that I am an adorable human being. But I've never believed it more true that you can totally be "alone in a crowded room."

Okay. Enough of the thin veiling. This is about being single. This is about being 25 and thinking about how the next 3 or 5 years will look like. This is about wondering whether building a family will be anywhere in the horizon or a craft (like cross stitching) or cats will be how my year 30 will look like. (And how my writing will always have horrible stereotypes like the one above.)

This is about finding my happiness. And wondering how that happiness looks like. Whether it will come in the form of a giant pile of money to afford me the time and resources to finance a full time Sociology education in London, alone. Or in the form of a pretty and snotty 1-year old showing mommy her chocolate soaked fingers and how she can stuff a whole chocolate bar into her mouth in one go.

This is about not knowing and feeling a tiny semblance of panic brewing at the pit of my stomach. This is about Not knowing whether it is too early or too late to not know and just feeling antsy just the same.

This is about feeling my way through all of my 25 years of life and wondering what's in store for me. This is about realizing that longing to belong to that sacred bond of a relationship. This is about not knowing what to do because none of these are in my hands.

This is about wondering how it feels to belong to a secret circle of 2. How it feels again to have that one constant to run to, to bitch to, and to be that one other human being that doesn't make you feel alone. To have that one person you can complain-brag about and make you feel a grown adult capable of being part of a grown adult relationship.

This is about having another person outside of your Mom who fusses over whether you got home safe or had lunch on time. This is about having another person other than yourself care about whether you are happy and is constantly thinking of ways to up your happiness.

This is about doing ordinary things like running in the morning, or walking aimlessly in a mall, or discovering a great ice cream flavor feel like a wonderful shared experience. This is about  learning to take care of another person's happiness outside of your own.

This is about getting consumed by the endless possibilities that is met with both fear and anticipation. This is about wondering. This is about hoping.

Go for broke.

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