A year.
365 Days.
8,760 Hours.
525,600 Minutes.
31,536,000 Seconds.
As Jonathon Larson asked the MTV generation, "How do you measure a year?" Do you measure it in birth and death, in laughter and tears? In seasons, changes of weather, changing holidays? In good and bad grades, failed midterms and passed classes? In love and hope, pain and despair? However we choose to measure our year, we mustn't ignore any part of it. Because you have to take the good with the bad. You have to realize that good things can come from tragedy, and that even the best of things can fall apart. So much can change in a year, but a year can also stand to prove how far we have to go.
365 Days.
8,760 Hours.
525,600 Minutes.
31,536,000 Seconds.
As Jonathon Larson asked the MTV generation, "How do you measure a year?" Do you measure it in birth and death, in laughter and tears? In seasons, changes of weather, changing holidays? In good and bad grades, failed midterms and passed classes? In love and hope, pain and despair? However we choose to measure our year, we mustn't ignore any part of it. Because you have to take the good with the bad. You have to realize that good things can come from tragedy, and that even the best of things can fall apart. So much can change in a year, but a year can also stand to prove how far we have to go.
I look back and can't believe it's been a year. It's kind of funny to think that a few simple actions would have made for an entirely different year. If I would have just stayed in that night, I might not be writing this at all. I would be asleep right now. My mind wouldn't be plagued with memories that stab the heart like a knife.
Whatever.
A year, and I still have absolutely nothing to prove. Same shit, different year. Right where I started. Still taking 1 step forward and 8 steps back. But I guess the difference between this year and last is that I know a lost cause when I see one. So this is me giving up, throwing my towel in, punching the time clock. This is me walking away. I'm still here. Always will be, but I'm not making an idiot out of myself anymore.
It's like the man who always gets his car rained on right after he washes it. It doesn't matter how often he checks the weather, or how much he hopes it won't pour on his wax job, it always does. See where being the optimist gets you? Just shit on. I'm not going to be the one standing there with a big-ass grin on my face, hoping for the best anymore. Because 9 times out of 10, you don't get the best. They say you only get as let down as much as you build yourself up, but I think that's bullshit. Because no matter how little I expect, I always get disappointed. I just don't know why it's so hard for me to give up when the other side so clearly doesn't care.
That's the hardest part. I feel so much emotion I could explode, but the other person could care less. If I disappeared forever tomorrow, their life would just go right on as though nothing happened. How are the feelings so disproportionate? How did I let this happen? Why am I doing this to myself?
No matter what I wish for, it's selfish. And I know it is. So therefore, I don't wish for myself, but for them. For them to find what they are looking for. For them to find the happiness that they seek. I honestly want nothing but the best for them, because that is exactly what they deserve.
But I want them to know that I never gave up on what I believed in, not for one single minute of this whole year. I never stopped wishing and hoping, never stopped believing. I want them to know that I'm keeping my promise; I'll always be there for them. But I'm finally realizing that the feeling that I thought was there was in my head all along. Never a connection, nothing special. I've always just been as random to them as any other girl.
I'll never forget the way they made me feel. That's something that I know was never in my head. That's something I know was real; albeit based on a false connection. I've finally realized that I'm not special. I never was. I was just in the right place at the right time. I could have been any girl that night.
It does hurt. I won't lie. But the sooner I realize how cold and bitter this world can be, the better. It's not always rainbows and butterflies. In fact, it almost never is.
I wish I could open my eyes up right now and realize it was all a dream. Some elaborate, continuous dream that I've been having for a year. Something, anything to make me feel less stupid for feeling the way I did. Some magic pill that I could swallow to make me forget all the things that made me smile. To make me forget every memory, every conversation, every encounter that I remember. I would snort that shit if such a pill existed. Kind of like in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
A year gone by. A year in which I thought that I changed so much, yet only to find out I haven't really changed at all. A year that could be simmered down into a simple fact: I'm just that random girl at some party. That's what I need to accept- that's who I've always been. All that's left to do now is drown the moments of a year in that cup of beer I should have finished.
It all means nothing. It never did.
Whatever.
A year, and I still have absolutely nothing to prove. Same shit, different year. Right where I started. Still taking 1 step forward and 8 steps back. But I guess the difference between this year and last is that I know a lost cause when I see one. So this is me giving up, throwing my towel in, punching the time clock. This is me walking away. I'm still here. Always will be, but I'm not making an idiot out of myself anymore.
It's like the man who always gets his car rained on right after he washes it. It doesn't matter how often he checks the weather, or how much he hopes it won't pour on his wax job, it always does. See where being the optimist gets you? Just shit on. I'm not going to be the one standing there with a big-ass grin on my face, hoping for the best anymore. Because 9 times out of 10, you don't get the best. They say you only get as let down as much as you build yourself up, but I think that's bullshit. Because no matter how little I expect, I always get disappointed. I just don't know why it's so hard for me to give up when the other side so clearly doesn't care.
That's the hardest part. I feel so much emotion I could explode, but the other person could care less. If I disappeared forever tomorrow, their life would just go right on as though nothing happened. How are the feelings so disproportionate? How did I let this happen? Why am I doing this to myself?
No matter what I wish for, it's selfish. And I know it is. So therefore, I don't wish for myself, but for them. For them to find what they are looking for. For them to find the happiness that they seek. I honestly want nothing but the best for them, because that is exactly what they deserve.
But I want them to know that I never gave up on what I believed in, not for one single minute of this whole year. I never stopped wishing and hoping, never stopped believing. I want them to know that I'm keeping my promise; I'll always be there for them. But I'm finally realizing that the feeling that I thought was there was in my head all along. Never a connection, nothing special. I've always just been as random to them as any other girl.
I'll never forget the way they made me feel. That's something that I know was never in my head. That's something I know was real; albeit based on a false connection. I've finally realized that I'm not special. I never was. I was just in the right place at the right time. I could have been any girl that night.
It does hurt. I won't lie. But the sooner I realize how cold and bitter this world can be, the better. It's not always rainbows and butterflies. In fact, it almost never is.
I wish I could open my eyes up right now and realize it was all a dream. Some elaborate, continuous dream that I've been having for a year. Something, anything to make me feel less stupid for feeling the way I did. Some magic pill that I could swallow to make me forget all the things that made me smile. To make me forget every memory, every conversation, every encounter that I remember. I would snort that shit if such a pill existed. Kind of like in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
A year gone by. A year in which I thought that I changed so much, yet only to find out I haven't really changed at all. A year that could be simmered down into a simple fact: I'm just that random girl at some party. That's what I need to accept- that's who I've always been. All that's left to do now is drown the moments of a year in that cup of beer I should have finished.
It all means nothing. It never did.
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