So okay, big fact, there are a lot of times where I feel like a lot of stuff has gone wrong.
Breaking News: Teenage Girl on Wattpad is Sad Sometimes!
I know, I know. But, it's always worse when it's you, isn't it? You laugh at other people when they post shit like this, and then it hits you, and you almost can't breathe because you're suffocating under that weight, that pressure to do well and be the best person you can be and it's all going wrong--
I have a best friend, at least. He'll read this, thanks Pete. I couldn't survive without him, without the knowledge that even if I really fuck everything up, he'll still be there. I did fuck everything up, and our friendship is still standing. At least, I hope it is. I hope I'm still his best friend, because he's been mine for a while.
He helps so much. I worry that I'm doing something wrong, because I don't have the right hopes, the right dreams, the right goals, but at least we're both getting through it. We're going to end up on the other side of high school, college, whatever, together. And that keeps me stable. Doesn't it for everyone? Just knowing you have someone to lean on when times are tough, and having the knowledge that in the good times you'll be there for them to lean right back.
It's a powerful sentiment, but I worry I do too much leaning.
Bonus fact: everyone gets real fucking tired of their parents right around sixteen. Good god if they don't shut up for ten seconds and let me watch something, anything (cough Star Trek) maybe I'll pierce my own eardrums with a q-tip and live on closed captioning and knowing t, n, and m in sign language for the rest of my life. Problem is I probably can't get into college for foreign language/music if I can't hear how abysmal my pronunciation/tone is.
But isn't that the dream? Getting to listen to your own little world, sometimes, any time, maybe when you're feeling down, or just because interacting with other living, speaking, breathing human beings is exhausting and wow they're all such terrible people, and no, my bassoon is not a big oboe Matthew, and if you say that to one more teacher that doesn't know what it actually is--
Deep breath. Focus. Like that ever happens. Focus and talent come so rarely and sparingly that I swear, I don't know how I even got to this point. Successful? Probably not. Wanting to be a teacher doesn't give you big, famous rewards. Just a couple students, maybe one or two each year, that actually care and want to participate. I know because that's every class I'm in. It's every class, ever. Even the fancy Honors ones that I wormed my way into by luck and natural talent for everything that's not phys-ed. I say that like it's bragging, but if I was bad at maybe one or two other things I think I'd feel better about myself. I wouldn't have to worry about what comes next, what happens when I get to college and actually have to study for once.
So that's it, I think. A five hundred (closer to six, probably, by the time I'm finished with this little goodbye) word rant on nonsense that even I don't care so much about. That's life. Everyone thinks about their own problems. And only those.
Thanks Pete. I think you're the only one that listens.
