Most people think nothing of getting close to someone. They just hang out with someone and one day find themselves closer than the first day they met. I wish I could be like that, but instead, I sit in my room alone scared of getting too close.
It’s not that I hate everyone and I don’t want to be close to anyone. It’s that I don’t want to lose them. From the time I was 10 until I was about 15, I lost 9 close family members. For a while, I couldn’t go more than 6 months without losing a family member. Whenever a family member died, it seemed like I had just started to get close and attached to them.
For the longest time, I did not want to get close to anyone because I was nervous that they would die. I believed I was cursed and that everyone I loved would die.
After a little, I somewhat got over that and started to get close to people without fear of them dying. This only caused me to develop another fear. It seemed as though most of my friends decided that I wasn’t good enough for them and would leave.
I know it’s a dumb fear I should get over and I am tryin,g that’s why I am writing it out.
It’s that time of year again where high schoolers across the country spend hundreds of dollars to prepare for one amazing night that defines their high school experience: prom.
Admittedly, I’ve been desensitized to the excitement of prom. This year is my sixth year attending prom, an occasion usually reserved as the most magical night for seniors, and some lucky juniors, across the country. For me, it’s always been just another, slightly more, glamorous dance.
But this year is my senior prom, so I’m putting more effort into it and I’ll admit, I’m also more excited for it than usual.
I bought my dress back in February. I love my dress, a long rose gold sequined dress that brushed the floor, two slits going to the middle of my leg. It fits the disco theme this year and I’m happy though it wasn’t at all what I was going for. I love my accessories just as much. Glittery silver heels, a matching clutch, rhinestone earrings, and bracelets.
Surprisingly, my dress and accessories were the least expensive and I still have much more money to spend just to prepare for this night.
Tomorrow, I’m getting my nails done. I already emailed the artist the nail art I want to do. I’m getting gel nails for the first time. Then, I’m getting my eyebrows done, threaded and tinted, something I never tried before. Prom is giving me new opportunities to try new things. I’m also getting my eyelashes permed, something I’m horrified of trying, but I hope works out as well as all the reviews and blogs I’ve read about it online.
Prom is only two weeks away and that’s it. I’m done. I won’t be going to another prom again, but I’ll have the memories from the photos to remember it by. But, once prom ends, I’ll get on spring break, then count down the days to May 1st when I have to choose where I’ll go next year, then May 31st: the day I graduate.
It’s so scary how high school is suddenly coming to an end. That, next year, all my friends from high school will be spread across the country, maybe even different continents. I don’t know what’ll happen then, but I’m finally, truly excited for prom. Excited to dress up glamorously with all my friends one last time and dance until the last minute for one more memory to make.
wow! we are lucky lucky to be alive. i know sometimes we get sad or angry or embarrassed or even feel all those silly human things at once, but have you ever thought about just how lucky we are to be alive at all?!
appreciate everything! soak in as much as you can as often as you can! talk to people you don’t usually and ask them about their day or about their dreams! confess your love to someone! get rejected and get over it, just to say you did it! get a shitty tattoo! make a change in the world! make your friend your valentine or your mom! stand up for someone! kiss your dog! love yourself the most! hug your friends or a stranger! tell your family you love them! make up with the people you got in a fight with! reach out to someone you miss! make the first move! tell your parents how much you appreciate them even if they make you angry! live in the moment! go out! surf! manifest positivity! go, go, go live. who cares? woohoo, we are so lucky!!
LIVE BY THIS: “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” -alfred tennyson
At 11:59 p.m., Friday, January 18th in Santa Barbara, I was still seventeen years old.
I spent the last sixty seconds of my childhood in a Lyft with all my best friends going back to my aunt’s house after just watching Escape Room and I was truly happy.
But, as the clock struck 12, I was no longer a minor. I was eighteen years old and officially an adult.
During every single birthday, my family always asks me if I feel older at all. Usually, I don’t, because there usually aren’t any changes that happen that make me feel older. I know that as a sixteen year old I was legally allowed to get a driver’s license, but I didn’t get one and I still don’t have one because I haven’t found any reason for it. At seventeen, I was able to go to a rated R movie, but I always went to those anyways.
However, when I turned 18, I truly, finally felt older right away than ever before.
I know I’m a year older, but it happened only in a day. From 11:59 to 12:00, it suddenly hit me that I was a legal adult.
On my 18th birthday, I went and got a cartilage piercing and I didn’t need my parents to sign my release form. I was old enough to do it by myself. Then, I went and bought a scratcher ticket, and when they asked for my ID, I was able to satisfyingly show it to them and buy it. I didn’t win any money and I don’t plan on buying one again, but it was the experience that made me so happy because I finally can buy one if I wanted to. For the first time on my birthday, I finally felt older.
My birthday itself was amazing too. I remembered last year I was on a train up to Santa Barbara, breaking down because the mudslides kept me from having a birthday celebration with my friends. This year, I spent the whole weekend with my best friends in Santa Barbara and Santa Monica. My two worlds came together and my friends from OVS and my friend from my old school finally met for the first time. We were out until midnight laughing crazily on all the rides at Santa Monica Pier without a care in the world. My birthday weekend was also full of delicious meals, amazing desserts, and all my family and friends. My cousin was even able to come to the brunch celebration on the Sunday afterwards, she usually is never to come to those events because she’s so busy, but it was amazing.
I know my eighteenth birthday will always be one I remember and though I’m horrified about the fact that I’m no longer a minor and that I actually feel older, I’m happy about it.
Sit down or look around, do as you please, but don’t break anything. Welcome to my mind. I haven’t let many people in here, in fact, only about three, but I don’t want to get into that for now.
This is a quiet place with music you can hear. It’s colorful, mainly with primary colors, aside from the green swooshes that you see flying through at times. That’s my creativity and it usually comes and goes.
Over here is my bookshelf. You know, I don’t really like to read, I much rather make up stories of my own. God, look how many I’ve written so far! They’re all in here, of course, never on paper. It would probably be a waste of paper, if I’m being real.
Over here is my picture wall. As you can see, it is almost entirely filled up with dogs (they just make for the best pictures). And my friends, of course, all of them or most of them. The good ones, that are still in my life today. The other ones, I threw out. But the good ones, I’ll keep forever.
Oh, don’t look behind that door; that’s where I keep the things I don’t wanna be reminded of. Most of them are just plain embarrassing, but some of them are sad. Well, I have a couple of sad pictures on the wall still, but I think I’ll take them down soon.
And there, in this cabinet, is my motivation. Not much in there, I know, but the stuff that’s in there is good. You’ll see.
Down here, underneath this trap door, of course, are my fears. Please, don’t open it. I’m not in the mood to get them back in there again. Sometimes one of them pop out to say hi and make me worry about stuff, but usually they’re fine down there.
And here, this I’m especially proud of. This is my love. It looks like a pot of flowers, but it’s a lot better because I don’t think it could ever die. If it can, I don’t want to be alive to see it.
You can stay if you want; you can always come back, too. I hope I gave you a good tour and I’m glad you stopped by. Goodbye for now! Hope I’ll get to visit yours too sometime.