So I saunter across the dirty pavement humming to myself. I wish I could be like the sky and keep it all in. “But nothing’s wrong with crying,” my heart whispers. “It smears mascara,” my brain replies.
I laugh to myself, and out loud. People look at me, but I don’t care.
I’m not going crazy. No, my dog didn’t die. I don’t have a dog. I didn’t fail a test. I don’t have a headache, nor did I accidently use germ-x on a papercut. Nothing tragic, nothing miniscule. I just feel a bit upset.
Just as I’m about to cross the sidewalk... hold on.
Why do we always talk about me? It’s quite bad manners of me, and for this I apologize.
Hey there, reader. I wonder why you’re here.
Certainly you’re avoiding some task. Or you’re bored. Or you wish to poke fun at me and my random spelling errors; this I don’t entirely mind, because it put a smile on your face and that’s never a bad thing.
But more than I wonder why you’re here, I wonder what kind of person you are. I wonder if your tummy can’t handle much red meat, and if you’re bad under pressure. If you suck at math and if, like me, you’d almost always rather be in bed. If you tell bad jokes at parties and if you'll will grow up to eat cereal seven times a day. And along with all that, I wonder if you’ve figured out who you are yet. And if you haven’t, good for you. If you have, even better. And if you have but maybe you don’t like it so much, it’s going to be alright.
Because right now, everything is the way it needs to be.
Because maybe you didn’t get into the university you wanted, but you had the opportunity to further your education, and that itself is a luxury for so many. Because maybe you don’t own the cutest designer wallet, but within what you do have, there is a ten dollar bill to fill your stomach at lunch. Because maybe the boy or girl you like doesn’t like you back, but maybe all their teeth are fake and they kick puppies.
So hang tight, and trust destiny. Do not be easily defeated and make your tears and worry a rare thing. It will be okay. I know you’re sitting in your cold bedroom refusing to turn the fan off because you can’t sleep without the noise it makes, and it feels like mediocracy. Or you’re sitting in a cafe that has a bad wifi connection and smells like stale Cheetos, but you’re exactly where it’s written for you to be.
Go with the flow and don’t over plan. Because sometimes, the goals we make for ourselves are better off unrequited. So please, if things don’t turn out the way you intended, I assure you that it will work out in the end. Perhaps you love a thing that is bad for you, and perhaps you may hate a thing that is good for you.