I had an epiphany today. While cleaning my room, of all things. I was sorting my clothes and I noticed how much they relate to childhood. My Tinker Bell shirts, Eeyore, Dr. Seuss... My gnome pajamas, and the ones with the rubber duckies. My sparkly jeans.
The reason I'm so frustrated with my life right now is because its complicated. The reason I want so badly to go back to childhood is because it was carefree. There were things that worried me, upset me. Childhood wasn't perfect. But it was so beautiful and precious. It isn't about growing up. I remember frustrations like my brother taking all the milk before I got my cereal. Things that didn't really matter.
I was never afraid of failure. I used to dream. I used to want the impossible, simply because I wanted to prove it wasn't so. I used to want the future, whatever it held.
So I rushed. I ran. I sped as fast as I could towards those dreams.
Did I burn myself out?
I keep telling myself I need a break. I just need time off to be myself, to relax. I realized tonight that it's impossible. Life doesn't take a break. Life doesn't stop or even slow down, just because I desperately need it to. Life rolls, falls even. Life doesn't care.
I want meaning in my life. I want things to make sense. I want school to be worth never seeing my friends. I want my friends to be the same people when I do see them. I want my dreams to make sense. I want them to be possible because it is so damn hard to accomplish the impossible. Maybe I don't even want the impossible. I want something. Anything that makes sense. Anything that seems worth it.
What is a life worth?
I have been pursuing my career, my education, my goals, my dreams, since I was ten years old. It's all I know. Stop? Pause? Breathe? Live? I don't have time for that. It isn't in my plans. I'm on a timer here. Work, finish, hurry, hurry. That's what's important. Always. Always?
What if I finish and it isn't what I dream it will be? What then? I will have wasted the best part of my life. I will have wasted a million opportunities, a million chances at happiness, love, friends, a million times and places for nothing and everything, that I will never get back.
Do I really know what I want? Is a ten year old even capable of making a decision worth pursuing for the rest of my life? Am I just chasing after this because I don't know anything else?
And what about this? Writing in the middle of the night about things I would never dare to show to anyone in the day. Tears that haven't seen sunshine in years because I never let anyone know. Is this worth it? Is this solving anything? Is there a purpose to this... not suffering. Surely nothing so strong as that. Pain. Despair, perhaps? I'm smiling at the word despair. Half a smile, but all the same, what do I see in that word?
I have always loved swingsets. It's the flying. Once you get high enough, for just a second, you hit this void where you break from gravity, where you are going up with more force than that of the earth pulling you down. I desperately want that in my life. I want to be flying up faster, stronger, harder, free-er than anything that's pulling me back. I'll let myself back down, but that's the other thing about swings. Sure you have to come back down, then go backwards, but then you go right back up, defy gravity again.
I want to defy gravity. Over and over. I want to defy life.