subject line: afraid.

 

norman, oklahoma

I’ve never been one to really know what I was doing, but did the things anyway. I choose my meals based on what everyone else is doing. I follow the rules. I avoid confrontation. Go with the flow. Don’t make waves. Keep your head down. Do what you have to do to get by.

But the more I love this life I realize that’s no life at all. I cried about it. On the plane home yesterday. I cried because I don’t have a plan. I cried because there’s no grand scheme. I cried because wading through life aimlessly is no life.

I have influence. People like me well enough. I try to tell myself that I like me well enough. But... I don’t know if I believe it.

I just had another birthday. Another year older. Too old. Too old to do the things that I once did. Too old to try and make new friends in the same crowd. People tell me I need to grow up. To be an adult. To act my age. I don’t know what that means. Because everyone my age has a plan. They have goals for themselves. And here I am. Hoping that maybe someday I’ll look up and know that what I’m doing is what I was always meant to do.

People say that I should get married. Have kids. Be a good parent. But that scares me. I’ve worked hard. I might not have a plan, but that’s never what I expected. And I’m not even sure I want that. Because admitting that I do want that even to myself, means that after everything that I’ve been through I’ll never achieve that.

I guess I’m afraid. No. I know I’m afraid. Afraid of the way that things will end up. Afraid of the walls that I’ve put up. Afraid of drowning. Afraid of my life being meaningless.