there are those who believe the world revolves around them. proud, important people; it's perfectly reasonable for self-proclaimed awesome beings. if you're somebunny like me, though, you might think, "hey, why am i so great?"
the world has been revolving before my existence and it would keep revolving without me. why the fuck should it matter.
retrospectives are in order with some of the free time i've had. the one thing i realized was how horribly far away my actual life is from what i planned out when i was five. yes, it's disappointing, but not so much that i feel it's the end of the world. or that i should drastically change everything. seeing it turn out different makes me a tad upset; spending all those years making sure i would finish an academic career at st. john's lutheran school, continue at st. john high school, and get into that champagne college--dreams for fucking naught. how aggravating it was to see the hopes and dreams flutter away and being too young, stubborn, and feeble-minded to conjure up new ideas of a wonderful life in the real west. perhaps it was the result of absolute devastation. yes. that must have been it.
i have prolonged the teenager in me indefinitely. most likely not going to leave that stage anytime soon.
with all the new fangled things that have happened and that haven't i still wouldn't change anything. for the first time a long time since this crazy, angsty perpetuation of my life i'm relatively happy. it's not all the time (god, how miserable the days are), but in the right setting it can be absolutely blissful. the universe could implode explode, be destroyed by aliens raging an intergalactic war and i wouldn't give two shits about it. as long as i'm in the happy state anything could happen and it would be ok.
let's not get into what i'm like when that feeling isn't there. we won't delve into what i feel now. it's not necessary.
hmmm. onto more memorable past relics: i was going through my closet today, cleaning it out mostly, and i came across the tiny valentine's one passes out to classmates in elementary school. a whole fucking slew of them. a folded up piece of notebook paper, ragged edges gracing one side where it had been ripped out, caught my eye. as i started to unfold and open the thing my heart skipped a beat. was this that thing? that one thing that i had been looking for since i've been here? the paper that might've been lost forever???
it was. here it is.
look at that! it was the first number i ever got from a boy i liked! no fourth grade girl could resist something as romantic as this...he's so fit in the drawing, but you know in real life he was a rather scrawny boy with a cute, innocent 10-year-old face. i treasured this thing when i received it, so shocked he'd even give me such a wonderful bit of art and information. somewhere between there and here the paper was misplaced and i've been wondering what had happened to it all these years.
i didn't call him when i got here.
a ten year old girl in a phone call situation with a boy she likes gives more than butterflies in the stomach.
i was/am more timid than most.
i don't plan on calling him now.
why would i be silly and do that after waiting 13 years?