The first year of four has passed me by and I don’t quite know what to think. It was a year of many firsts for me, a time of growth and maturation, with little time to think and breathe.
Something that Brian said to me still sticks with me to this day.
“You’re so domesticated now.”
And it’s true. I’ve tried to deny it to myself. But I’m boring now. I’m unfun and corporate and I enjoy being clean. Since when has that been me?
I still haven’t found my niche, to be honest. As I reflect on these past eight-ish months the only conclusion that I can truly draw is that I’m not who I’m supposed to be yet. I’m still growing and reaching and I’m not satisfied. Momentarily satiated, yes. But I know that I have far more to go.
I used to take comfort, though, that I would have a wonderful group of people to take with me as I braved new things. People who were just as excited and young and superficially jaded like myself. I used to have adventures with people I loved.
I didn’t start over by choice. I started over out of necessity, cutting people out of my life because of circumstances and pain, not because I wanted to. But now that they’re gone, I have no one to replace them with.
The first week of college was a mad scramble to find replacements. To find replacements for him, for my friends, for my family. None could measure up and then further externalities forced me to withdraw from those wild ways and focus on…what? Nothing, really. Just a a fucking fight to keep my sanity and stay in college and not cry myself to sleep and feel alone.
Second semester rolls around. Maybe things will be better, right?
Well, no. That’s not how things go.
I’ve cleaned myself up though. My professional life is absolutely incredible and I’m winning both academically and professionally. But my personal life is well.. It is what it is.
Summer will be the third stage of my reformation. When I finally tie everything together and find a home for myself in the hearts of others.
Yeah, I’ve decided.
I LOVE TROY
Remember, remember the 5th of November. The gunpowder, treason, and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder, treason should ever be forgot.
We Rose Up Slowly - Roy Lichtenstein