Before I get into the nitty gritty of it, I just want to thank every single one of my followers, and anyone who ever liked a post. It really gives me the confidence and push to actually sit down and write. I’m just a stranger on the internet, and if someone goes out of their way to show they like what I’m doing, that feels good. So this post is really directed at all of you who clicked like, or decided to follow me on this adventure.
I’ve been grappling with writing recently, where every time I sit down to write I just… don’t. Most days I don’t even make it to a blank document to even begin and I tell myself that I am wayyy too busy for the stuff right now. But I’m not busy. The truth is I’m just sad at the state of my life. And with sadness comes great responsibility… wait no, that’s power. And it feels as if I have no power over my life. You know what the problem is, though? I KNOW that I have all the power. All of it comes within me. Do you even know how annoying it is having a bad day when you’re as self aware as I am?
First world problems, amiright?
Anyways, even though I haven’t been writing writing, I have been writing down topics. I’ll be minding my own business and a topic will just come to me andI write it down to explore at a later time. It’s nice, because I have a backlog of topics that I’m interested in pursuing, but annoying because I keep writing them in their own document and now I’m hit with a bunch of untitled documents that I have to click into separately to find out what’s contained within.
But this specific one has been niggling me the longest, because I’m getting on in years (I’m seeing thirty in the distance!). I just thought I would be more together by now, in so many ways. The best years of your life. What does that really mean?
Who’s to say what the best years of your life are? Someone who peaked in high school? College?
Have you ever had someone tell you to enjoy high school because they’re the best years of your life? Honestly, I haven’t, but if I had I bet the person would have been a cheerleader, queen bee, the head of the school. Needless to say, I was not any one of those. Let us side track to the sob story that can totally be remade into a hallmark film.
I was perceived as ‘goth’ and for good reason. I hated being there, felt like an outsider, and leaned into my given image by drawing skulls and hands coming out of a grave captioned ‘back from the dead’.
But even if those had been the best years of my life, how sad would that be? Hopefully I’ll live a long, healthy life, and if those were my best years then that would mean it’s all downhill from the very beginning. It’s not even the first quarter! Just because life seems to drag by when you’re younger and zoom by when you’re older, doesn’t mean that time is different. A year is a year regardless of age, until proven otherwise.
So, if high school isn’t the best years of your life, then, is college? What, a time when you’re so broke all you can eat is the classic ramen and you’re so tired and haven’t had a normal amount of sleep in what feels like months? Yeah, you make friends that are great, and sometimes last a lifetime, but I still wouldn’t want to peak when there are still so many years ahead of me.
The truth is, I never want to ‘peak’. I want each year to be a new experience, and bring about fantastic things. I never want to stop and say, ‘Well, I suppose this is as good as it gets,’ because then what am I living for?
So now that I’ve debunked the phrase ‘The Best Years Of Your Life’, I can tell you to just not waste any of them. HA, easier said than done. But I think my biggest regrets that I have in life are looking back and thinking about how much more I could have accomplished during times when I had less responsibilities, or more money, or more friends, and opportunities for adventure came a dozen a minute.
The truth is, I’ve been suffering a lot with that this year because of the pandemic. I’ve had wayyyy too much time to myself, too much time to think and ponder and get in my own head about stuff. And sometimes my head can be a truly terrifying place. I’m working on it, but why does my brain always jump to worst case scenarios and play horror movies for me when I’m not paying attention? Am I the only one? Please tell me I’m not.
But I’ve realized looking back at those times that I always thought it would just get better. Naturally. Like, one day I would wake up and transform from a caterpillar into a butterfly without any of that hard work of breaking out of the cocoon. But then time went on and it just wasn’t happening. I was still in the same place as I was years ago and I had to take a good, hard look at myself.
Oooh, this reminds of a great analogy. Harry Potter, anyone? Skip this paragraph if you’ve never read it (or just read it!). But recall in Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry watches from the trees, waiting to see who casts the patronus and saves his and Sirius’s life. He waits, and he waits, until he realizes no one is coming and he has to do it himself. It’s not a bad analogy, eh?
So here I am, years and years later from the little girl who dreamed of publishing a book, and yet nowhere close to accomplishing that (well, I did write a novel! I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I’m not going to allow myself to be proud two years after writing a first draft when I haven’t put any effort into the editing process and the consequent next steps). I’m closer to some of my fitness goals, so I can relish in those accomplishments. The truth is, I’m really not a complete failure. I guess I just thought I would have more of life figured out by now, and I’m surprised that I don’t have a fancy job making bank and driving a nice car. I’ve just kind of given up on myself and my dreams, thinking that they’ll happen one day but then being surprised that they haven’t happened yet when I haven’t done anything at all to get there.
I’ve just been wasting every day by not taking a tiny step in the direction of the person that I want to be. And that’s how to waste the best years of your life. Every day is the best, and then the next day is better, and the next day is even better. But if you don’t do something that counts for your life, that makes you happy, that brings you joy, that takes you towards that future and doesn’t keep you stagnant in a smelly, wet, pond of nothing, then of course it’s going to be a waste. I’m sounding intense now, but that’s only because I’m trying to motivate myself as much as you to get off of my butt and take steps towards doing things that can make me the person that I so long to be. That I’m truly dying to be, because every day is a closer step towards death and I’m making moves that will push me towards the end, but where I can look back and say, YES. I’m PROUD of who I am, of the risks I took, of all my accomplishments, and yes, of my failures as well. Because if we failed, at least that means we tried. And that means it was not a waste.
The rest of the weekend flew by, with Brooke avoiding talking to me after the failed pasta lunch. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with me and I figured she wanted to ask but was keeping to herself. It was the first time I was excited to go back to school, to change and be a better person. Mom said if I wanted to be there early on Monday morning I could get a ride into the city with her and Dad so I packed everything up which wasn’t a lot and carefully put my pills I had wrapped in tissue into the front pocket of my backpack. I was going to use them as soon as I got back, that night in fact. I was going to study hard and finish the paper that I was supposed to do over the weekend but I was too distracted to do, and generally be a better human. I was nervous about what I would say to Jenny when I got back. She was sure to be there since she told me before she left that her returning flight was for Sunday night, and I knew she would try to get me to go to a party with her. I was determined to refuse, I would beg off sick if I had to.
Mom and Dad waved goodbye to me, too lost in their own business to realize that I was so distracted by my own problems I didn’t even hug them goodbye. It was all for the best, the quicker I got away from my family and the people who could read me, the quicker I got this whole ordeal over with. Once I had the grades and no incriminating evidence (read: pills) then this whole thing would be done. I dragged my backpack, made heavier by the fact that Mom had stuffed a ton of leftovers in there, to my mercifully empty room. I could tell that Jenny had been back already, the place smelled like her after a shower with her perfume in the air. I figured she was seeing friends, or getting breakfast. It was actually much earlier than I thought and I was surprised that she was out at this time but figured that maybe she had slept out at some guys room last night. Although why she wouldn’t want to take advantage of her own room was beyond me. I lay down on the bed staring up at the ceiling. I had pictures on the wall next to me of Brooke and I, pictures of us doing fun things, having adventures, being sisters. Pictures of us laughing at nothing, sitting on the back porch and looking up at the stars. I missed her more than I had the past couple of months and I think that was because of the big secret I was keeping from her. I stole from my best friend. Was there a way I could be absolved of my guilt?
Class started in a half hour and I was determined not to be late. I didn’t need to eat and so, like the first day of classes, I made my way to the building early so I could be the first one waiting in a prime seat.
Randy was there already, no surprise there, but he did raise his eyebrows at my presence.
“Thought you gave up on passing,” he said to me nonchalantly. I noticed today his shirt had another sarcastic comment with the words in big across his chest: May Your Life Be As Cool As You Pretend It Is On Facebook.
“Yeah, I’m gonna give it another go,” I said back, not really interested in having a conversation with him. Apparently he felt differently.
“How was your Thanksgiving? You went home?”
I sighed. I guessed this is what happened when you arrived to class early. “It was good. Yeah, I did. You?”
“I was here. At the big Thanksgiving thing the RA’s did. It was OK. RiRi dressed as a chicken.”
I couldn’t help a snicker. “What I wouldn’t give to see that.”
“I actually have a picture, here,” he drew out his phone and showed me. “She’s pretty awesome, no? Plus her parents offered to bring her home for the holiday but she said her job was to be here with us and make sure the kids who couldn’t go home still had a good time.”
I was nodding along with him. Everyone loved RiRi. People started trickling in slowly, still ten minutes left before Professor Bowmen would make his entrance. Everyone was in this hushed state as if in a collective hangover. Randy went back to his book and I looked around at everyone, wondering what went on last night to make everyone so groggy.
“Hey! You’re back!” Jenny herself bounced into the room and took up a seat next to me. “Why are you sitting here it’s all the way in the front and next to him.” Her head gave an obvious roll towards Randy.
I was embarrassed at her rudeness. Had I never noticed before how cruel she was to people more unpopular than her? Or maybe I just hadn’t cared.
“Jenny,” I kept my voice down hoping she would do the same. “I just want to try to listen and pass my classes this semester. I don’t want to fail.”
Jenny scoffed. “So just do what I do.” She looked around meaningfully, making sure no one was paying attention. “I have a guy. I-” I stopped her right there. I already stole my sister’s medication that she actually really needed in order to study for my classes. I wasn’t going to risk getting kicked out just because Jenny didn’t want me to be a party pooper.
“Jenny, I’m not doing that. That’s grounds for expulsion, it’s not worth it.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t come here to work hard. I worked hard in high school so I could come to college and have a good time.”
That really made no sense but I refrained from saying anything to her. Where was her future in that? What was she planning on doing? I had never asked her before since it was a rude thing to say but maybe she was coming into money or an inheritance and that was her plan. Or marry rich. She was from the south, that could be something they did there.
I shrugged back at her. “Ok, so good luck to both of us then.” I turned back to face the room as Professor Bowmen dramatically closed the door with a bang and quickly began. Jenny faced the front of the room as well and avoided my eyes. I could tell she was mad at me but there was no reason for her to be. Just because I didn’t want to break any rules doesn’t mean I needed to be penalized for it. The class dragged on so slowly with her sitting next to me, darting glances at me every couple of seconds that could kill. What had she been expecting? A partner in crime? It was distracting to say the least, and I continued looking forward trying not to pay her any attention. I was going to try to get my room switched before the next semester. This couldn’t go on.
The class was finally dismissed and I made my way to the cafeteria, trying to get ahead of the crowd of lunch goers. Jenny went the other way, I assume to some guy’s room to make out while I bought myself a sandwich and sat down.
“Mind if I join?” Oh no. It was Randy. While I felt embarrassed about the way Jenny had spoken about him in class, that by no means meant I now wanted to be friends with the guy.
“I just remembered something I need to do,” I said, wrapping my sandwich up hastily and making a quick exit. I didn’t look back, not wanting to see him looking forlornly after me. I promised my dark self that I would be better and the occasion came straight away.
I pushed my way out the big glass doors to sit outside, even though I knew it was freezing. I took that to my advantage. I assumed no one would follow me. I sat down at a table all the way out of sight of the cafeteria’s windows and reopened my sandwich that was now unappealing. I grappled with the idea of taking a pill. It was just one. It would help me get through the rest of the day. Carefully, I brought out my stash from where I had it in my backpack, giving a cautious and obvious look around to make sure that no one noticed. I swallowed and grabbed my sandwich as a chaser. I nibbled at it slowly for some energy when someone sat down at the other end of the table.
I bristled immediately. There were so many empty tables, why did this person have to go choose mine? I remembered my unfortunate resolve to be a nicer person and took a deep breath and turned to look at them.
“Hello,” I said, rather unenthusiastically. A guy around my age turned to look at me with surprise. He looked around as if expecting to see someone else behind him to whom I must be referring to and I laughed degradingly.
“No, no, I’m actually talking to you,” I assured him. He had the most fascinating blue eyes and was wearing a get up that could only be described as ‘victorian’. A simple dress shirt that billowed in the wind and tight slacks with a fur jacket thrown over it. It was interesting to say the least but it suited him, with his loose curls all over his head and lanky body.
“I’m sorry,” he said, in a slight accent that I couldn’t quite place. “I thought you were referring to someone else. How do you do?” He held out his hand politely for a shake, and I grasped it, surprised at how warm it was when it was so cold outside.
“I’m Parker Palmer, Freshman.”
“Sam Ellis.. Clark,” he responded giving a tilt of his head it
I thought about going back to my sandwich that was now getting stale. Sam Ellis was looking at me pretty intensely though as if he wanted to talk. I wasn’t sure what to say to him though. I just wanted to go up to my bed and go to sleep, but I was sure I would bump into Jenny and I wasn’t ready for that yet. Besides, I had a class in one hour and with my new resolution I couldn’t be late.
“I actually have to work on this paper. Did you take Professor Bowmen’s class by any chance?” I might as well get his help on my homework if he was sticking around.
He nodded quickly. “Yeah, totally. Why, you need help? Want to brainstorm?”
Sheesh, this guy was like an overeager puppy who just wants people to hang out with him. He seemed nice though and I was ready to meet new people. He still seemed surprised that I was even talking to him, although he was easy on the eyes and well spoken. I couldn’t see why he found it hard to strike up conversation with strangers.
“Um, sure,” I shrugged. “I have class in an hour though and I’m freezing here. Want to head to the library?”
He looked worried for a second like he wasn’t sure what a library was, or he had never been inside, or maybe he was scared of books? After a couple of moments he shrugged and said sure.
We walked together to the library, with Sam Ellis offering to carry my laptop bag. I politely refused. I didn’t know him at all. I wasn’t completely sure that he wouldn’t grab the laptop bag and make a break for it. And with that lanky figure he was taller than I was – and most definitely faster. I said I was fine, I could hold on to the bag by myself. We walked in silence, at least for the first couple of moments. Then Sam Ellis broke it by asking, “So, where are you from?” It was a harmless question so I answered him honestly. “Brooklyn. You?”
He looked around as if searching for an answer and then I realized what he was referring to. “Here. all my life.”
“Here as in this block or here as in the city?”
“The city. Growing up on these streets means every block is your home.”
“Really,” I said doubtfully. “I should think it’s the exact opposite. If you live in a place as busy as this can you really know every street like you think you do?”
He nodded, listening to every word I was saying. “I hear you, so I guess it’s just different for me. I feel like I have been here forever and have had ample time to stroll around and discover all that this beautiful city has to offer.”
He nodded at a couple walking past who were looking at me suspiciously.
“I know them from the neighborhood,” he said vaguely to my questioning gaze. They looked hostile towards me and I wonder what I could have done to offend. Maybe Sam Ellis was royalty where he was from. I knew there was a ridiculously rich community in Manhattan – mostly from watching shows like Gossip Girl – but if what they had to say were fifty percent true then they were a tight knit community who looked down on outsiders and loved to gossip. I wanted to ask him but I only just met him. It seemed like a rude question to ask a stranger. Brooke would be proud at my social skills.
We made it to the library only to find the place packed and we edged our way around to sit at a tiny table in the corner. It was the computer section where you were allowed to talk and was filled with students studying, or cramming for last minute tests. The term was nearing its end and there was lots to do.
We sat down but I wasn’t in the mood to work just then. I took out my laptop reluctantly and opened it up. It was dead. I looked around for an outlet and spotted one a couple of feet away on the floor that was available. I pulled out my charger to plug it in, taking care to untangle the mess of wires before they stretched too much. Sam Ellis waited patiently, eyeing the room with a critical stare.
“It’s like you’re secretly judging everyone,” I laughed at him, quietly. “What are you expecting to see that you’re looking around like that?”
He looked abashed. “Oh, nothing, I just don’t come in to the library very often.”
“Oh? You have no work to do?”
“Oh you know,” he said vaguely, waving his hands. “I manage.”
This guy I had met, not twenty minutes ago, was so likeable that I found myself sitting with him and laughing in the corner of the library, feeling more at ease than I had at any moment since entering college. And that included all the times I got drunk and had lowered inhibitions.
He seemed different than most of the other college guys I met. He was more mature, even though he gave off such a young impression I was hard pressed to say he was even eighteen. We didn’t do much work that hour, just sat around pretending so we wouldn’t get glared at by all the people who were working hard. I ignored the haters for the first time in my life, feeling confident that nothing would happen sitting together with Sam Ellis. And then it was time for class but I didn’t want to go.
But what was I to do? I promised myself to turn over a new leaf and not act like the person that had taken over the beginning of the year. Sam Ellis wasn’t a bad influence. He saw the time and hurried me to class, claiming he had one as well in another part of the building. I let him walk me to the room, and felt high school nostalgia in the simple act.
Class dragged on today, longer than usual. There were a couple of people giving presentations and we ended up going overtime. I remembered that I had a presentation due the following week. It was on my calendar but I was so behind I was only looking at things that I had to do right then. Watching everyone stand up there and go at it made me nervous though. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to scrape a passing grade if this was what the requirement looked like.
This Adult Life 