Come Pick Me Up

As I sit here in an empty parking lot at 2:39 AM smoking a cigarette, I smile to myself as I think that the younger me would have never done any of the above.

The younger me was such a different person; so cautious and nervous and afraid she was going to make a mistake. Now I'm older, more jaded, less cautious, less afraid of pissing people off. Less of everything good and more of everything I shouldn't be. But would I trade it for the world? Absolutely not.

Do I wish I were more fiscally responsible? More aware? Less emotional? Do I wish I didn't have a heart of glass I wore on my sleeve? All of the above.

I can learn. I can change, I can get better at these things. But in the meantime, the pain of my mistakes from these emotional missteps pierces my insides like hot swords.

I'm bad at loving. Terrible. I love too hard, too intensely. I'm much too passionate. I cling fiercely onto things until I don't, them that fiery passion ignites once again and I push things away too far.

Sometimes I get so angry at myself. So angry for being so self-aware, yet doing nothing. So angry for making mistakes. Angry for still being so in love with someone who wants nothing to do with me. Angry for still caring so much.

But, again, I wouldn't change it. My passion is who I am; it defines me in the best and worst way. At the end of the day, you've gotta love yourself and be happy with who you are. And I know that deep down in my heart, I at the very least try to be the best person I can be. And that's all I need. I can move on and accept decisions I don't necessarily agree with because I know that I gave my 110% every single day. I know I never gave up. I know I never quit fighting for what I believed in. But most importantly, I never changed who I was.

Because you must love yourself. And more importantly, you must find someone to love the you that you love. It's been a long time coming, but I can 100% say I love myself. I'm good with who I am. My own skin finally feels like mine.

And for all the girls out there who hate what they see in the mirror, or kick themselves for silly things they did or said, don't worry. There is someone out there who loves that girl who isn't perfect, whose hair is sometimes a mess. A girl who sometimes gets more emotional than she means to. There's someone out there who deserves you; every bit of you.

I light another cigarette. Ben Folds comes on my CD player. "Come pick me up, I've landed," Ben sings in his velvety lilt.

Indeed, Mr. Folds: I've landed.