I had a conversation with someone yesterday about happiness. It was one of those Transition Conversations. Those are conversations in which one or more people in a discussion realizes how captivating other members can be, as expressed through their ability to hold your attention with their words. These conversation, as I expressed on Twitter earlier, are the absolute greatest. This is what changes people from acquaintances to close friends. In these, people discuss the deeper things in life and they figure out what others actually are. It is in these conversations that a good judgment about one's character can be derived.
The conversation from yesterday gave me a deeper sense of appreciation for this person. It showed how much she thought about the world and it was really pleasant to be able to "human" in that manner.
She mentioned how she wanted to feel happy. No, content. The really sweet lulling feeling of comfort, the kind that pulls you away from everything else, until you no longer know what's beyond it. It's not too extreme, though, it's not ecstasy, it's not joy, it's not excitement. She wanted to feel that again.
There are too many things that can take away from us ever reaching that. Too many things that could destroy any chance of it ever entering ourselves at all. It took too damn long to get away from most of that.
And what they say is so true. It starts with yourself. I used to look at those little quotes on Tumblr that stressed how you should love yourself and how nothing can really come out of hating yourself except for really good writing. (It is true, I produced some deep-ass stuff while in the slumps) But it never struck. I'd see it and just wonder how? It's not that easy to love yourself when you don't even know yourself. I was trying too hard to please people and make myself perfect. I was trying too hard to be the me others wanted me to be.
It honestly sucked getting here. It was a horrid journey full of self-loathing, rejection, disappointment. And all of that hurt. And then I hurt in other ways, too, because I was really unclear about myself. It sucked. But along the way, I picked up some decent lessons.
High school is a rough place, a rough time. Four years of sheer hell with little bits of heaven sprinkled in. But it beat the insecurity away. The final blow was two days ago, just as high school was ending.
I got a scar on my foot that day. This is going to sound stupid as fuck, but...
I consider it really symbolic. It stung and it hurt and it ruined the fun I was having. I had to take a pause and examine it and clean it out and cover it. That's kind of the problem I had with myself. As this thing heals, I'm going to be reminded of it, but I don't mind. I know it's going to heal. That's where I hope the next few months are going.
Good things are happening. Over the summer, I was offered a job as a singer! I thought I had ended the singing days forever after the last performance, but I was recruited. Completely unexpected. Along with this came the idea to do more covers, just for the hell of it. I also plan on actually organizing a writing project over the summer. I just need to follow through. In addition, I plan on working at the Children's Museum. The world seems different. 13-year-old me would be shocked and hopefully proud. Yeah, you didn't get to Rice, but you are here and you are finally on the road to really liking yourself.
I am not as worried about leaving my family and friends, because I know that it is more than possible to keep up a relationship with them. I'm not worried about the roommate situation anymore, either. I found one and she's incredibly sweet and we should hopefully get along just fine.
I'm still unsure about my future, but...I am not sad about it anymore.
I think that's definitely enough for now...