I Still Feel...
like I'm stuck between two worlds.
In my first world, I grew up with this stereotypical small town life where I twirled batons at the big Homecoming game and was on Student Council...rode around town (back when gas was cheap!) on a Friday and Saturday night...got a late night pizza at the one restaurant in town. Back when dressing nice or stylish didn't mean I had to have $200 jeans or $300 shoes. I could buy clothes at American Eagle and I was fine.
It was far less stressful than I gave it credit for, but I always vowed to leave it all behind so I could live in that world of fine things.
In my second world, I went to an elite college in New England...basically lived my childhood dream...even acquired some "premium denim". But that existence was very tiring, yet also very addictive.
I yearn to go back because even though I was tired and pretty miserable, I at least felt I was accomplishing something.
Now I am in a sort of purgatory...sometimes, I really want to go back home and live simply again. But I also know that when I do, I'll constantly be restless and ready to move on to someplace grander. Always wondering why I allowed myself to abandon the final part of my childhood dream. Always wondering if I could've done better.
And I get so frustrated that I didn't live life better when I was at Wellesley...there was so much more I could've done, but didn't.
Or maybe I couldn't have done it.
Who knows really?
In my first world, I grew up with this stereotypical small town life where I twirled batons at the big Homecoming game and was on Student Council...rode around town (back when gas was cheap!) on a Friday and Saturday night...got a late night pizza at the one restaurant in town. Back when dressing nice or stylish didn't mean I had to have $200 jeans or $300 shoes. I could buy clothes at American Eagle and I was fine.
It was far less stressful than I gave it credit for, but I always vowed to leave it all behind so I could live in that world of fine things.
In my second world, I went to an elite college in New England...basically lived my childhood dream...even acquired some "premium denim". But that existence was very tiring, yet also very addictive.
I yearn to go back because even though I was tired and pretty miserable, I at least felt I was accomplishing something.
Now I am in a sort of purgatory...sometimes, I really want to go back home and live simply again. But I also know that when I do, I'll constantly be restless and ready to move on to someplace grander. Always wondering why I allowed myself to abandon the final part of my childhood dream. Always wondering if I could've done better.
And I get so frustrated that I didn't live life better when I was at Wellesley...there was so much more I could've done, but didn't.
Or maybe I couldn't have done it.
Who knows really?