Come Around

Hey Out There,

I wonder if everyone else is as guilty as I am for waiting for life to start. "When I graduate college...When I get my first apartment....When I get my first real job..." Then things will be on track. Then my life will start. Then. Here's the crazy thing though: this is my life. This crazy set of moments where I play soccer in tutus with my little sister, write poetry I secretly love for people to read, tease the shit out of my little brother, unapologetically angst for hours on end, try to trust in God, make a mess of my room, say too much, think too little, and occasionally get made fun of for my music taste.

And I think that I'm so afraid to think of this as life because that would mean that "Life" isn't some stark, momentous change I can be prepared for. There's no starting line. Or rather, there was, but it's about 18 years and a million memories behind me. And I'm afraid because I know that If I realize that, then all I've got on my hands is a big pile of "What the hell are you waiting for?" To which I can only answer in the format indicative of my generation: "IDFN."

And that's absolutely okay. Because as long as I realize that yes, this is my life, and no, I have absolutely no reason or right to be afraid of it or run from it; as long as I can promise myself to at least try to embrace it, then I can just let it be what it is. And then it's no longer waiting. It's Life.

Quote of the day:

TAFNF,

Elena Grace