out of everything i imagined to happen this year, you were the least expected.
i knew things would be different from the previous year, but in a nostalgic, new-things-are-coming sort of way, the way that comes with senior year. but now it's may and i spend saturdays with you, naming our top twenty five favorite songs, lying on the floor listening to elliott smith and talking, sleeping to modest mouse b sides, rolling around the cul de sac in the lightning. i wish this was understandable, comprehendible, not having to compromise, settle for something less. it's overwhelming, safe, new. being seventeen isn't reality though, it's experiencing things for the first time and over dramatizing your life. i spent years convincing myself what love is until even i lost sight of what it really means. we're so eager to grow up, reading prestigious magazines and filling ourselves with knowledge our peers would never know. dreaming of the days we can finally live in cities and go flitting about from parties and starting careers, lives. i don't fantasize about frat parties and class, i imagine an office and walking down fifth avenue. i love my life here, in montgomery, but it's so conventional and typical that it makes me frustrated and drained of creativity. but there are times, like when i'm driving down cherry valley road and it's gray outside, and there are think leaves blocking the sky, that i feel a rush of beauty and gratitude for where i live. it's strange how the concept of high school/college/real world works. at 17, all i know is where i live, my home, my family, my friends, my routines. you build a foundation, create stability in one place (or a few places) for years until they are yanked out from underneath you, thrown into a new state or city where you're expected to live and learn. you stay at college, forming friendships and bonds, but after four short years you are thrust into a world of jobs and ladder climbing, until eventually (in about ten years) you meet your match and settle down, produce children and a home. i'm currently reading this book "someday this pain will be useful to you" by peter cameron and although i don't love it, i find it somewhat relevant to my life. the main character, james, is 18 and heading off to brown in the fall, but he's something misanthropic and inverted. he exaggerates his hatred for college, for the set belief he has to attend an institution to make something of his life. while excited for college, the sequence of events that one has to go through in life make me somewhat...depressed. essentially everyone does what is expected of them, school, college, job, marriage, babies, raising them, death. the trivialness of life makes me want to explode sometimes, and the restrictions it possesses. on certain days i find myself yearning to get out montgomery, to get on the next plane to europe and explore the streets of a new country. but standard makes the impossible, with passports and tickets and danger and fear. sometimes i adore being surrounded by friends and laughing but other times i found myself wishing to be unknown, alone, somewhere completely new. maybe i'm placing these restrictions on myself. i want to see something bigger than life, something significant. there has been no moment in my life that particularly stands out, and i want it to exist. this has taken off in a completely different turn than i expected, but it was good to translate what i feel. the reason i turn to writing and plan on making a career out of it is my lack of putting what i'm thinking into words. i find myself failing to ever truly explain myself in conversations, debates, or fights because of my need to think things through. but i'm starving and this isn't a college essay so it doesn't need a conclusion.