I went to see my anthro counselor today. I got a substitution approved for my minor, which means I can for sure graduate in four years if I get into all the class I want.

Aside from the approval, she wasn't any more or less helpful than anyone else I've talked to (so far) regarding my future. She was, however, reassuring. Just a mention about my uncertainty about grad school and she talked about what I could do in my year(s) off. It sounded like the natural course of things! She mentioned the "doors opening" bit too. How things usually just fall into place if you know where to look.

It's strange. I feel like I've changed over the past few weeks. For so long, I've held myself in these little niches. And these niches were safe, but they were also boring. They didn't allow for change. I got comfortable with this. Too comfortable.

But I feel like I'm evolving. I'm growing into myself. I'm seeing more differences between my roommate and me, which sounds weird, I know, but I'm realizing the depth of these differences for the first time, when I should have noticed them long ago. She's the most selfish person I think I've ever known, almost completely incapable of compromise, and entirely unwilling to accept another way of being or thought.
I'm seeing this now. I'm seeing how she's condescended to me since she found out my grad school drama. I'm seeing how she expects me to compromise. And I'm tired of it.

I want to be a well-rounded individual. I want to be able to explain photosynthesis and the symbolism behind a great piece of literature. I want to understand how the muscles work and why people think like they do. I want to write! I want to wonder at the water molecule without relinquishing my creativity! And I believe that I can do both! I can be a scientist without losing an entire half of me!

It just bothers me that one of my best friends can't see this.
 

I need to become okay with uncertainty.

That's all life is: uncertainty. The future - uncertain. What I'm going to do - uncertain. Who I'm going to become - uncertain.

I like control. I need control. But there are some elements of life that I've either been ignoring or am now just experiencing that I cannot control. Maybe those elements came into play when there was someone other than myself in my life. Hm...

I'm often terrified of what's going to happen. I don't like not knowing things and not being able to change the situation around me to give me an advantage makes me uncomfortable. But I have to become okay with not being able to control my environment, or the lives of others.

I need to let go.

I think I'm starting to let go.

My future, until this point, has always been nailed down. I've aspired to these lofty careers - doctor! professor! - which few ever actually achieve. It's all too possible (probable) that I'm not meant for a life of prestige. Maybe I'm supposed to be the lab tech or the museum curator (which wouldn't be a bad job at all...) or the educator. Maybe, whatever direction my life (Steve?) leads me in will be the right direction, no matter what my brain may think about it.

I need to accept that I'm not in control of my life. Or not as in control as I hoped/thought I was.

Where ever I go, doors will open for me. I'm intelligent and I'm capable. I need to settle with myself that fate doesn't work for one person. Fate will not land Steve an incredible job with an incredible graduate school nearby which I would miraculously get into. No. Fate will deal me something completely different and I have to be ready for what that difference is. I also have to be ready for the consequences of the choices I have to make.

But I can do this. Whatever it is that's going to happen, I can get through it.


I'm letting go.

Alright, so this logic came to me at nine this morning. I donned my headphones, turned my iPod to shuffle, stepped out into the wind, the cold, and the snow, and all of a sudden, it hit me. I feel like it was the first time I really smiled in a week. I felt joyous. It was strange. But here's how it came about:

( How it came about... )

People keep telling me to keep my options open, that I deserve better, that I can't "train" him like I need to.

Well you know what? Melissa of last week couldn't keep her options open because she didn't believe she had options. Melissa of last week didn't think she deserved what she had. And Melissa of last week didn't think she could "train" him.

Then, Melissa of today realized what a little bitch Melissa of last week was and kicked her out of the house.

Melissa of today has a million options because she is awesome.
Melissa of today deserves to get what she wants - which will always be the best.
Melissa of today has rationale enough to realize that compromise, not strict obedience, is the best way to work out a relationship.

Melissa of today can handle whatever life throws her way, as can Melissa of tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.

SO HA!

You know, I was thinking way too long term about this whole thing.

I don't need him.

I am complete on my own.

And it's not, "What's wrong with me?"
Instead, it's, "What's wrong with him?"

Whatever happens will happen, and whenever it happens will be okay.

I will be okay.

There's a philosophical question that I've never given much thought to before: Given the choice to know the time of your death, would you take that knowledge? 
I've never thought about it because it could never happen. But in fleeting, my answer is yes. Yes, tell me when I will die so that I can be adequately prepared. Tell me when I will die so that I can really live with no regrets, like I'm meant to.

Well, what if you didn't have the choice?

What if you were told the time of your death? What would you do?

As I see it, there are two options.

The first is to quit delaying the inevitable. You're going to die. It's going to suck. If you keep living, it will just make dying harder. So die now. It saves you and everyone around you grief because you become no more attached to life, no more enthralled by the beauty of it or by how good it makes you feel to live. You've had your time, so cut the cord and maintain control while you still can.

The second is to live. You know when you're going to die, so live it up in the mean time. Yes, dying will suck. Your last months will be miserable because you know that your time with the people you love is limited. But soon, you will have to leave everyone important to you and they may (or may not) mourn you. But at least you had all the time with them you could, even if there was a pall around every look, touch, and smile.


So which do I chose?

And this new thing I'm going to try is called thinking positive.

So the set-up: 
Last night, I tore myself down.
Again.
I find that I do this often when left alone without a distraction. My mind just gets to wandering and all of my issues attack, reducing me to a sobbing mess six feet in the air. 
It's not pleasant.
I don't like doing it.

Therefore, I'm going to stop.

I'm not going to think that Steve doesn't like me or doesn't want to see me. Because frankly, all of the evidence implies that he does.
I'm not going to assume that I should be more important than class or group presentations because, quite frankly, I'm not. I'm a spectator, an individual who will probably just flit through his life. I will have no lasting impression. Grades, on the other hand, do make a lasting impression. If he doesn't have the grades, he doesn't have a job. 

I am not his future.


I think I need a new way to define myself. Pre-Steve, I was "The Single Friend." That was my definition. Post-Steve, I'm not "Steve's Girl" (because I don't need a man to define me), but I'm no longer "TSF." So what am I?

This will take some thought, but I think it will help.

There are two very important things to every relationship, I think. They both fall under the heading, "Communication" and they are: listening and compromise.

Without them, you're going to have a very hard time of it.

That's all.

And something I've said to myself all along. I just don't think I've been listening.

You have to want to change.

I have to write this down before the other part of my brain takes over and convinces me that all of this is nonsense. So here it is.

I was looking in the mirror randomly and I came to a realization: I'm worth it.
I'm marginally pretty. Not perfect, but passable. I have a great smile and I'm smart like whoa. I'm funny and I'm personable, accidentally charming and intriguingly quirky.
So you know what?
I'm good enough. I'm good enough for a guy and I should really stop convincing myself that I'm not. Yeah, I have some issues, but who doesn't? Of course, I have faults, but again, who doesn't?

No, I'm totally worth it. And someday, somewhere, someone will realize this other than myself.

Love to all.

I want to be wanted.





That is all.

I love having opinions.

It separates me from the blondes.

And here's the reason why.

I believe it, I just need to write it down. I need it to be kept on file, so that I can see it whenever I nonsensically doubt myself.

I'm in an honors college-level writing course. I am allowed to write.

An essay is no longer an essay in the old sense of the word.
It is allowed to have literary devices, it is allowed to have emotion, it is allowed to take a side, it is allowed to form an opinion.

I can do this.

More wisdom: PMS is not so fun when one is on the receiving end of it.

Especially with two sisters...