How is it possible that I can feel so completely alone all the time, even though I’m surrounded by people who love me? How can one person’s absence make such a big difference? How have I gotten to the point where, when something happens that I want to tell someone about, there is not a single person who I can turn to?
I have managed to push away every single person that I cared about, and I thought I was okay with that. I thought that I was getting rid of the unhealthy things in my life to make room for better things ahead … but maybe it was always just me. Maybe those people were “my people” and it’s me that’s the problem. I mean, c’mon, there is no way that I could statistically attract that many truly bad people – so it has to be my presence that turned them into the people I can’t stand. Or maybe there’s something inside of me that refuses to accept anyone who doesn’t exactly match up to the person I expect them to be.
Most of the time, I am okay with being alone. I am okay with keeping my thoughts in my head when there is no one around to tell them to. But then there’s nights like tonight – nights where I thought I would like to have the house to myself – when it terrifies me to be alone with only my thoughts; nights where I can’t help but think of all the damage I’ve done.
I always said that I hated all the drama and back-stabbing that came with high school, but somehow it always found me, and now I’m starting to think that maybe I actually loved it; maybe I did bring it on myself. Maybe I craved it because it made me feel alive or because it made me feel like people actually noticed me or because it gave me something to complain about. I complained about all the pointless high school drama for the better part of my senior year, and eventually I drove everyone away or simply cut them off, instead of cherishing those last few precious months of irresponsible youth.
I wish I could be the girl who can be carefree, the kind of girl who acts now and thinks later. I wish I could be the girl who truly doesn’t care what other people think of her (no matter how much I say I don’t already). I wish that I could say all the things that go on in my head out loud and not be afraid of being judged for it. I wish I could let go of the unrealistic standards that I seem to hold everyone around me to. I always say that I am someone who is accepting of everyone, no matter our differences, and I’m just now realizing that I am a colossal hypocrite. I don’t think I should completely throw away the expectations that I have for my relationships, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I lowered them a little. Who knows, maybe I’ll discover something I never expected to want in someone.
I have been telling myself for years that I would recreate myself once I graduated high school and moved away from my small town – there were too many people who knew the “old me” there, too many people who would never let me really change myself. So, now I’m moving eight hours away from that place in less than three weeks and I’m finally going to have the chance to turn myself into the person I want to be. In three weeks time, I will have run out of excuses and I am ready for this new chapter. I am ready to be the person that I have been dreaming of. I am ready to be the carefree girl who doesn’t care what other people think of her. I am ready to find “my people” and do everything in my power to keep them in my life. And I am ready to stop expecting the world to go exactly as planned and just live, rather than simply exist.