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note to self: i’ll be there for you, always

written june 6, 2021. Photo by Kristine Cinate on Unsplash I have always looked for myself in other people. I think the idea was that they would somehow hold the pieces of me that I felt were missing. That maybe, if I wrapped my identity up in theirs enough, we would somehow make a whole person. It's not healthy to live like this, but I did it anyway — burning through relationships and searching for something I couldn't quite name. It was never enough, not to be myself, but it was never enough to latch my identity to other people, either. I got close, several times — I thought I had reached the pinnacle of self discovery. I thought I had completed myself. But in the end, relying on other people to help build yourself is never a viable way to do things. It's only recently that I've started to become comfortable with the idea of being enough, as I am, on my own. Several years ago, in this same position, I would have searched for another person to attach my identity onto,


Dear blog world,

No, I didn't fall off the face of the earth. But, life is full swing, and so is summer. It's extremely hot, which means that now is the time for moving furniture, garage sales, painting rooms, getting your own bedroom, and acquiring fish named Flynn (whose alternate alias is Eugene Fishherbert. Just so you know).

It's also been filled with wasting time, chatting with friends, listening to Owl City, wearing gigantic sunglasses, hanging out with friends, wearing beautiful pink feather earrings, and, as of just tonight, sitting at a table listening to your grandpa tell stories about his life while you doodle on a napkin.

I got a new desk today, which has a piece of glass you can put pictures under. I'm calling it my Inspiration Station. Quotes, pictures, and other items of love will go there for when I sit there to write. I also hung up some hanging lights by my bed. They look like fireflies. "You would not believe your eyes if ten million fireflies lit up the world as I fell asleep..."

I've also been writing away, wondering whether red hair is a recessive gene, and contemplating going and doing the litter box instead of writing a blog post.



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