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college begins, life rushes by
I am a fool. You know, it's the end of October. More than two months in. College! Seven years ago I started this journal. Seven years ago I was melodramatic, depressed, lonely, oddball - and completely free to do whatever I wanted with my life. When did that slip away from me? Seven years ago I had a little Harry Potter site and I got to know some really cool people I've never met in person and I acted older than my age and I acted my age, I told everyone, I'm going to be a writer. It's been a while since 6th grade. I grew up. I experienced unbridled joy, blinding depression, unyielding rage. I made friends, I lost them, things cycled through high school. In 9th and 10th grade I wondered if anyone would ever love me. Relationship relationship. We started dating May 26th, 2007, six months after. He's the most important person in my life. I'd like to pat my 7th grade self on the head, tell me, you ain't seen nothing yet. I have friends here. I have taken planes, subways, the train, a taxi by myself, all to get to him. At night when I stay up late I look at engagement rings and wedding dresses. I'm spending the rest of my life with him. Sometimes that's hard to explain to people. Nobody really seems to understand how connected we are. I can be eighteen and see clarity before me, at least in one section of my life. I can't be a writer. I'm going to major in art history. Surprise, CHS English department! I can't hold up to the pressure. Maybe I'll take the classes, but I don't think like an English major. I think like a scared girl who wants to finish college and go run off with her love. I'm going to major in art history, concentrate in women's studies, possibly take intro to fiction; I'm going to spend fall of junior year in a traveling European women's studies program, and spring at the good art school that conveniently is a part of his college. He's going to propose to me junior year. I'll make it through senior year, I'll move in with him, we'll go to grad school together, we'll get married. Life will be good. I could teach art history at a high school. It seems like a fun job. Wouldn't it be amazing if I could teach that, and creative writing, and help run a literary magazine at a high school? That sounds nice.... I don't drink, I won't smoke, I haven't done drugs. I am not traumatized by the distance between us (though I thought I was for the first month apart). I may never go to a party as long as I go here, but my friends and I have fun in other ways, like apples to apples and rollercoasters and impromptu dance parties and fantastic birthday top secret missions. Pierre and I videochat every day. There are 26 days until I go visit him, sleep each night holding onto him again, and know everything will be okay.
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Wolter 2001-2007, unless otherwise noted. Do not steal, and
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