For so long I was content with the mundane, with the ordinary. I knew I wanted more, I thought I might deserve more and now that the opportunity has presented itself, I find the urge overwhelming.
I want to dance and sing and scream. I want to live every waking moment to the fullest, be it enjoying the silent company of the man with the wild blue eyes or sitting at home, thinking of the things that I can do now that I'm finally becoming my own person.
Mostly, I wonder how it ever was that I became so content to be malcontent. I wonder how it was possible for me to shine so dully that I shock my Northern friends with my sudden zest and spark. How did I exist in such a state for years without absolutely losing my mind?
The answer, of course, is the slow decline. It was a slippery slope of muddy molasses and I didn't even notice I was sliding. I didn't notice that I was dimming. Didn't notice my drive was gone, that everything that made me ... me was going, fading, becoming glossed over with a layer of thick grime that almost completely covered my reflection.
A swift shake of the mirror was all it took to remove most of the grit, and now as I start to hone and polish the mirror, I begin to see the real shape of me. Student, employee, friend. Someone who is driven, not who is along for the ride. Someone who does things to make her life better instead of wondering what could have been and what will be.
I am this new person and it's thanks to that jolt of realization. The sudden impact of truth most often hurts but is sometimes so bittersweet that it forces the injured to stumble backward on coltish legs of logic.
Sometimes you have to step back away from the mirror to see the dirt it's accumulated and the figures in the background that you've been blocking with your own reflection.
I want to dance and sing and scream. I want to live every waking moment to the fullest, be it enjoying the silent company of the man with the wild blue eyes or sitting at home, thinking of the things that I can do now that I'm finally becoming my own person.
Mostly, I wonder how it ever was that I became so content to be malcontent. I wonder how it was possible for me to shine so dully that I shock my Northern friends with my sudden zest and spark. How did I exist in such a state for years without absolutely losing my mind?
The answer, of course, is the slow decline. It was a slippery slope of muddy molasses and I didn't even notice I was sliding. I didn't notice that I was dimming. Didn't notice my drive was gone, that everything that made me ... me was going, fading, becoming glossed over with a layer of thick grime that almost completely covered my reflection.
A swift shake of the mirror was all it took to remove most of the grit, and now as I start to hone and polish the mirror, I begin to see the real shape of me. Student, employee, friend. Someone who is driven, not who is along for the ride. Someone who does things to make her life better instead of wondering what could have been and what will be.
I am this new person and it's thanks to that jolt of realization. The sudden impact of truth most often hurts but is sometimes so bittersweet that it forces the injured to stumble backward on coltish legs of logic.
Sometimes you have to step back away from the mirror to see the dirt it's accumulated and the figures in the background that you've been blocking with your own reflection.
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