G R O W T H

There is something kind of neat you discover about yourself when you are forced into dealing with hardship.

Sixteen year old me ran away when she felt things were getting too serious. She ran away with no real explanation that was owed to someone who treated her wonderfully. 

Eighteen year old me got upset and kissed his best friend. Even though it was a joke of a relationship, no one deserves to have that happen. But at the time, I didn't care. I'm not proud of this, but I was intentionally trying to hurt him because he hurt me first. I wanted to have the last word. 

Twenty year old me understands where he is coming from, confused why he chose to act the way he did, but accepting that things happen for a reason. There's a reason I get to figure myself out right now. I want to take my twenties by the balls and make the most of them. And maybe that means I get to fly solo for a little. Maybe it's time I get to fall in love with myself, power yoga and statistics. The new me really hopes for the best last little bit of senior year for him and as T Swift once said "I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day" because sunshine and clear skies mean it's perfect motorcycle weather. There is no part of me that wants to hurt him as bad as he hurt me because there is nothing for me to gain from it. I get nothing except knowing that I am just as immature as I once was. Isn't this whole "growing up" thing about dealing with shitty situations in a new and improved way?

Here's to staying classy, mature, and only letting your mom and best friend see your crazy side.