the only moment we were alone.

A Retelling of Fortunate Events

The place in which I live does not promote intelligence or artisticness. I’ve never really fit in, except for when I was too young and naive to form my own interests, or even tell the difference. As I got older, I grew apart from the people I was surrounded by. I wasn’t ever a social pariah, I just never had any lasting relationships that I had the desire to keep.

My sophomore year of highschool I dated a guy, who was a senior at the time. Don’t get me wrong, I liked him and eventually thought I loved him. But, it wasn’t the passionate, “I want to marry you and be with you everyday love”. It was the “you’re my best friend, you occasionally annoy the living shit out of me, but I really trust you and I really need that now”, puppy-love type of relationship. We’re still rather good friends, now; he was, at that point, my best and only friend.

We broke up when he graduated and it hit me really hard, I really didn’t have anyone else to stick with. No allies, if you will. (I’ve decided you need at least one ally; if you have one, you’ll be okay.) I felt really alone, and really upset. I just needed to find someone to fit in with at the school. Prior to, I had some good friends but they all seemed to move on to better people and forget about me. It led me to believe I was easily forgettable. So, I began to search for an ally. I’ve never been the one to change who I am to fit in with others, I just really was companionship-hungry. I’m really not sure why I felt it so necessary to “fit-in” with the rest of the school. I was really insecure at the time. I guess me trying to forget who I was and experience new things led me to, eventually, find out who I wanted to be.

Consistently, my best friends were older than me. I had one friend in my grade; she was pretty popular among our class, and she was fun to be around. Not an intellectual being, by any means; more of the “partier” of the class. Slowly, I began to lose interest in reading and art and everything I had always loved. I was turning in to one of the people I had always condemned. I began to search for experiences. Less conversation and more actions that would leave my adrenaline racing and my mouth saying, “that wasn’t the best decision”. My morals went out the window and I didn’t care what I was doing. I was careless, and thriving on experience (and not all the good kind). I went on this binge for a few months, the entire first semester of senior year. I became alot closer to my classmates, because I was then taking part in all of the incredibly stupid things they did on a nightly basis. I felt happy; after all, I had many companions and many allies, it seemed. I had a best friend (who thoroughly enjoyed talking about herself, drinking, and really hated staying on the subject of giving me advice), a boyfriend (who was a jackass, trashy, and, most likely, a cheater) and many (vapid and superficial) friends. All a girl would ever want! After a while, though, the lifestyle I had so eagerly tried to adapt slapped me in the face. The foul habits I had adopted led me to bad decisions, which led me away from the people, at the moment, I thought mattered.

I was by myself again, by my own doing this time. At the time, I was extremely depressed. I lost 20 pounds in two weeks, and was completely unhappy with who I was. I recognized how ignorant my actions were and realized that I had pulled a curtain over my eyes in an attempt to fit in, which is who I had always vowed to never be.

After a month or so of pointless wallowing, I decided I was finished. I locked myself in my room, and painted for three hours. I paid no attention to time, no attention to anybody but me. After that, none of it mattered. I felt like something good was coming, and I’d be even better off. That was the first domino. I met a guy, I met a new friend. I started reading again, I started thinking again, I stopped watching TV, I stopped sleeping as much, and I got rid of everything I didn’t need. It all left me stronger. Although, now, I do have some trust issues and I’m pretty self-conscious; it left me doubting all of my abilities, and intelligence (which all could’ve been caused by the sudden realization of how much time I’ve wasted here, doing nothing and how much potential I think I always had). I just hope I can eventually live up to it.

Now, I’m with someone who has helped me remember everything Livingston had made me forget. He reminds me of the things that I have always loved, but had simply misplaced for a while (for a reference, the previous blog is about him). I have all the friends I need. And, it feels so wonderful to have intellectual conversations with people again. It’s so fantastic being able to say incredibly nerdy things and not be patronized. But, the most wonderful thing is the fact that I no longer care. Yes, it’s led me to criticize and ostracize my incredibly moronic peers, but I’ve never felt so at home.

I’m at the height of my roller coaster; but, this time, things aren’t so volatile.