Saturday, July 31, 2010

...for the Individualist


On the first day of kindergarten at Meadow Park Elementary, I asked Evann Rose if she wanted to be my friend.

And that was that. We were friends.

Leaning up against the stucco wall waiting to be called in for the first full day of our lives away from "Early Bird" and "Later Gator" class sessions, life was easy.
Somewhere in between the crazy hair days and sleepovers, things changed. Instead of Finger paints and Forts, friendships revolved around Crop tops and Svedka.

I just want to know when. When in life did we decide that having friends had to be so hard?

In most cases, the friends you make in elementary school are the ones you end up growing up with. If you remain in the same friend group all those years, through the crazy dramatized fights of middle school, and that first step into high school, then you've really accomplished a lot. Unfortunately, that may change. Walking through the crowded halls of high school you try your hardest to push through to the other side of the path just to avoid someone you may have called your best friend just years earlier.
As negative and cynical as this all may sound, there is reasoning behind all of this. Being friends with someone since the diaper days isn't implying that you're the exact same person that you were when you met, it's just an example of what I'm getting at. The point I'm simply trying to make, is this: Somewhere on that crazy road of life, filled with pot holes and detour signs, we decided that all of those road blocks could determine how we let others view us.
That innocent, care-free attitude we were born with and let shine in our early years so easily faded as the surroundings changed and the detours became frequent. Isn't that just so...sad? It's unfortunate that we may be that person who is walking through the halls and not fully letting ourselves be that person we once knew.
That little girl dressed in a polka dot dress sitting next to her dad playing with Tonka trucks who is now dressed in a polka dot tank top playing with Tony instead. Or, that young man who would go to the creek behind his house everyday with the girl next door who avoids that same girl in the hall because she decided to stick with her dreams rather than follow him on his journey to everyone else's.
I am a part of that identity theft.
I didn't wake up one morning and think to myself, "Hey, let's see how much I can change. Let's see how much I can lose myself." It just...happened.
For me, being a senior this year gives me somewhat of a break. I've been able to dabble in this, mess around in that, and through all of that indecisiveness, I saw that the only person I ever wanted to be, was me. I say I have it easy because I've reached the point in my own high school career where I can't and don't care what those around me think about me. I've accomplished my high school goals, I've made solid friends along the way, and I'm ready to conquer all of those nay-sayers.
Sounds easy enough right?
Well then how come behind all of those great ideas, I still fear that who I am may not be good enough? That I worry more about others' opinions rather than my own. I want to overcome my irrational "fear" of opinions and criticism that I may not like.
I only hope that the same goes for so many others out there. I didn't choose to have our world become this way, and I can't change that. But I can change myself. Or rather, discard all of those previous and unnecessary changes I may have made in order to please others rather than myself in ways that degrade the image I lay out.
Changes are GREAT, everyone needs a little wiggle room. But when you decide that these changes you're making aren't for yourself, well, that's when the detour you're on needs a stop sign.
What will you do?
Remember how you want to be, or continue to adventure down this road in the middle of the night with nothing but caution signs lighting the way for you.

Friday, July 30, 2010

...for the Hopeless Romantic

Throughout my childhood I've put together a list of things that make me sad:
1. The fact that I was THAT KID who sold candy on the school bus
2. The fact that every Friday after school in middle school our moms would give us $5 to eat at Ruby's to help add to childhood obesity
3. Pipe dreams and colleges your parents went to
4. The fact that my mom used to buy white bread and cook for 4

5. And mostly, people who sit alone. Not because they want to, but because they are involuntarily alone.

For some reason, this last one really gets to me. It's interesting really- once you think about it. It's crazy how I can let one solitary person affect my whole day. But maybe that's why I let them affect me; because they are that one solitary person.

I was picking up dinner for my mom and sister earlier this evening and I noticed an elderly man sitting right across the room. He was rather thin and a little on the pale side, wearing white tube socks up to his calf with white nikes only an old man can pull off. Dressed in a pastel yellow polo, he sat quietly alone at a table set for one. His plate was filled with a little too much rice than I think he could handle, and as he set his fork down after eating his steamed vegetables and slid up from his seat to get a drink of water, a sad smile crept across my face. How can someone so cute be so alone?
This made me think. A man like this, with such a calm demeanor and proper table manners must have been married, which kills me. I started to tear up thinking about his life before today. Before I saw him and before he ever had to order dinner for one. It is so unfair that a man like him has to go through life alone. That after possibly loving someone for X amount of years, he gets to spend the rest of his years without that person; alone involuntarily from the person he once loved.

On the other hand, there is the kind of person you may run into who is alone, not because they have loved someone and they've long passed, but because they have never had the experience to fully love someone like you should be able to; friend or companion.
I walked into Yogurtland late tonight and glanced across the room to see if I happened to know anyone there. My gaze settled on a young man in his early-30's. He had just finish his cup of frozen yogurt and joined us in line for his second helping. Looking back I noticed his out-dated khaki shorts and Payless brand tennis shoes. As he tried repeatedly to pick up his fallen glob of yogurt, his shaggy hair making it difficult, I started to choke up once again.
There is something so profoundly innocent about someone being alone. About the fact of being involuntarily alone and living life possibly not knowing any different.

Now, I could be wrong in my assumptions. These men both could be happily married and choose not to wear their wedding rings. They could have a large group of friends and be meeting their family for a reunion the next day. But what if? What if I'm wrong? What about the select few who don't get to experience a loving companion or have a large group of friends to hang out with every night? I guess through all of this I'm saying that it's not fair.

Why do people have to be alone?

It's something I am always going to want to change, but no matter what we do or what lengths we take to see a noticeable change, there is never going to be a time where everyone feels fully together.