But I did anyways. He told me, when I have a plan, I have a plan. I go through with it. But the thing is, plans change. As much as I’d like to go, I want to make things work, I want to find a way around it. After what seems like a long time, but really only about a month, I’ve been thinking seriously into our futures, my future. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed improbable to somehow live that perfect relationship. We’ve always talked of marriage, kids, life after college. But we’ve always somehow skipped the years in between life after college and being married. We’ve never really thought through where our careers would take us, let alone what our careers would be. You would think that would be the first thing we’d talk about. But after thinking about it for sometime, I’ve foreseen a fork in the road, a crossroad, a split in our path together. And it scares me just how real it becomes as time flies by and we’re suddenly almost out of school, well at least one of us is. We’re young, we’re only 21, but we’ve got so much more ahead of us before either of us get married, settle down, and have kids. We’re only 21, but I don’t want to be stuck where we are now, where we have been for the past 3 years. I don’t want either of us to be holding each other back from other opportunities. I don’t want one to be progressing and the other to be regressing. I want both of us to progress together year after year. I just somehow want a way where we’d be on the same page again, in the same direction, maybe not necessarily in SF or at the disability center by downey, but somewhere. The hardest part about this whole thing was bringing myself to say my thoughts out loud without causing an uproar. But sometimes, the things we don’t like hearing or don’t want to hear, are the things that need to be said to help us grow.
I feel like I haven’t really experienced the true college experience, and I’m starting to feel to old to be able to get back into it.
I want to go somewhere far far away. So tired of the same scenery of the suburbs or industrialized estate. It’s too quiet and too quaint. Never busy and never spontaneous. Take me to San Francisco. I’ve been entertaining the idea of moving there and taking up that job offer but there’s just so much I’d be leaving behind, but then again there’d be so much in store. I could start a completely new life with a new job with a new environment with new people. Where was this offer two years ago? I’ve been living so routinely and comfortably, but I want more. The natural human instinctive craving for more has finally hit me. And it’s a bitch.
Mornings used to be so much more light hearted and care free, full of longing looks and soft kisses. The days used to be long, being away at work or running errands without any company. And the nights used to be nice coming home to large hugs and I miss yous. It doesn’t feel that way anymore. I can’t help but question love when you say it’s just not there.
The way a man treats his mother is the same way he would treat his significant other. So why be with someone who is going to not take you seriously, talk to you like you’re a child, mutter under their breath, and assume that any reason why you would be the slightest bit upset is idiotic.
There comes a point where I won’t always be coming back. And this is the breaking point.
I feel too old for my generation. My interests are completely different from the average 21 year old. But I guess I like it. It surprises people. I kind of like hearing that I’m very mature for my age from elders.
Never let the past make you hateful. I’m looking through old pictures and I’m thinking, what happened to all of these people? To all of my old friends? To the person(s) that I loved? I don’t know. I don’t know who they are anymore. And I don’t care to think about it. That’s fine. But acting as if I never knew who they were, never went anywhere with them, never learned anything from them, and practically acting as if they never existed is wrong. Maybe so, that they were a part of my past for a reason, and that there was a reason I want to think that way. But if they were a part of my past, then of course, they are also a part of me. So forgetting the past, and acting as if it never happened, is forgetting a part of who I am, who I was, and the part that built up to who I was made out to be today. And I’ll never learn anything more about myself if I can’t accept who I used to be.
I find myself doing more things out of habit that I never used to do. Like how I set the table is how I would set a table at Guppies. How I clean my room is how I would clean my apartment. My need to clean is from living with 2 Nazis. But I feel like compared to last year, I’ve grown up a bit in my daily life skills and habits. Getting in habit to use a planner, reading a chapter a day, keeping clean instead of cleaning up all the time, and overall trying to use my time more wisely. Well my full school year hasn’t begun yet, but we shall see. Just returning home and being in my room makes me see the difference. Usually I would plop on my bed and spend all day on the laptop in my room watching movies and shows. But now I actually want to spend time with my little brother and help around the house. And clean my room.. lol. I’d say I’ve disciplined myself slowly.
Home for the weekend, but I feel like nothing is the same. My room feels so empty without my clothes, my original curtains, my lights, and ME. Dinner just isn’t the same anymore. A table usually set for 5 is only set for 3. Mom and Dad don’t even use their ricebowls and chopsticks anymore, they just use a regular spoon and bowl. Prayers are said individually. There’s no staying in the kitchen and talking while eating fruit after dinner. Sleeping is difficult. No one watching movies or TV anymore. No one sleeping on the couch in the middle of the day. My bathroom isn’t my bathroom anymore. I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Home feels like being back at the apartment in bed and watching TV. Home isn’t home anymore. :/