C’est La Vie

To be honest, I always envisioned it looking like a chic lit novel. Yeah, yeah I know, BAD example, but I’m not talking smutty romance, or REALLY cheesy stories about girls who spend all their time getting pedicures and manicures and going shopping. No I mean the stories about the girls who had a high paying prestigious job in Manhattan or LA, mingling with stars and other notable figures 24/7/365. And of course everything else follows: the flashy car, the great wardrobe, the shoes and purse that match, the long line of guys with their mouths hanging open but none are gratified, the high class friends. And vacation? Hello Cancun, hello Vegas, hello Monte Carlo.

Now my version would be slightly different but only slightly. More like i’d be living in Europe,  all alone, maybe have a few close friends at most. Vacations? Anywhere my little heart desires.

My life definitely didn’t turn out that way.

I’m not completely complaining. It’s not really a bad thing as much as it just “is”. Maybe in some ways it’s even better. I don’t know. I guessed I’d always have it together, as I was always known as the one who had it all together when I was younger. Now here I am, scattered to the wind. I have too many choices and things I want to do. My German professor tells me that’s a good thing. Maybe he’s right. I mean, it beats having no options and no idea of what to do. And maybe I’m just too critical because I’m too close to the situation. Who knows? But I just don’t feel like I am where i should be.

I remember being 13, and talking with a good friend of mine about how our lives would turn out. She was saying oh ya know everyone we knew would go to college, get a job, and work and do whatever. Not in a bad way; they’d be happy. But then there was me, and we all knew I’d be the one off running to the 4 corners of the earth, marry my dream guy, see all these things and meet all these people. We both knew that we weren’t just talking big either, it’d happen. And I’d come home and tell them about seeing Swan Lake in Moscow, and standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

 So here I am at 23, and feeling pretty trapped. All my friends are at least getting what they want, and I’m happy for them, but, I’m feeling pretty left out. But as my fiance likes to tell me, that’s just what happens when you shoot for something bigger than everyone else.

But if you want to follow the chic lit mentality, I would’ve had all this by now, and everyone would be jealous of me.

 I’m not really looking for jealousy, but I would like to know I’m making progress. Sometimes I don’t feel it, and other days I feel on top of the world.  “I’m an extremist, I have to deal with my own extreme personality, and I walk the fine line of wanting to die and wanting to be the ruler of it all.” A nice quote from the lovely Davey Havok. But that’s also how I feel. Sometimes I’m all down and out and angry, and other days, the world can kiss my…

I know I’ll be ok in the end. I always have been. I’ve never had my doubts about that. But I do grow weary along the way, and come within inches of loosing faith, but I’ll make it…eventually.

I feel so
Claustrophobic here
Watch out
Now you better disappear
You can’t make me stay
I’ll break away
Break away

“Break Away” ~Tokio Hotel