My best friend’s twitter bio gives me heart palpitations… I swear to god.
“We’re like too old to trick or treat but too young to die.”
Does that make anyone else just, I don’t know, like, gurgle on the inside?
We’re at this weird stage in our lives where Santa isn’t real but our parents still pay for shit. I hate that. I hate this in between stage. I don’t know who I am, who I should be, or if I even want to be this person I should be (whoever she is).
Part of me wants to quit school and travel the world. Another part of me wants to get my Masters and get working and be this big grown up adult person. A different part wants to drink wine in the bathtub on weeknights. Then there’s this part that still feels like I’m 12 and need my parents to do everything, but then also I feel like I should be talking to my parents more like they’re my best friends (and not my parents)?
I just don’t know. I feel like we’re all in this weird ass human purgatory. We’re not real adults, but we’re not kids, but we’re in school and they’re yelling at us to get jobs and be members of society, all while undoing the works of the baby boomers, you know?
Growing pains.
My knees don’t hurt because I grew two inches overnight, but my brain hurts because one day I woke up and I wasn’t 10 anymore. I woke up one day and the monsters under the bed became the man walking behind me at night. I blinked and my baby sister became the young woman I wish I could be.
There’s a good choice that the guy I’ve been dating for the past two and a half years will be the man I marry. I love him, I truly, deeply do, but god does that scare me. It shouldn’t, or maybe it should.
I have friends that are married, I have friends that are engaged, and I have friends that deem themselves tragically single.
Growing pains.
I talk about people in tv shows like they’re my oldest friends, while at the same time regretting the amount of time I spend watching them live their lives instead of living mine.
I’m working harder than I ever have. In school, in friendships, in life, but I can’t find the motivation to fix the internal issues of mine that are “broken”.
Growing pains.
Real life growing pains. The second round, somehow even more painful than the first.