(no subject)
Putting away my rose bedding into the linen closet was almost painful.
It marked the end of ten years-- I've had this bedding since right before my sophomore year of high school. Pink roses on a white damask-- it was a representation, somewhat, of my softer side, my "girlie" side.
It was a part of me I tried for year to come to terms with, and inevitably failed. Roses wilt, fairy tales never come true, there are no such thing as knights in shining armor or handsome princes.
There is, however, growing up.
I've been through many relationships, all of them utter failures. I remain friends with many of my ex's, and others I'd like to see die on fire. I've known love, I've known hurt and betrayal, I've been abused. Damaged goods? I think more highly of myself than that, but I can see where I might get that label.
I am more damaged now than I was before. I cope. Coping means growing up, being myself-- without fear or illusions. It means I am a club kid again; I don't care if it scares the nerds away. It means that I drink more... I don't care if other people don't like it. It means, yes, I'm a finicky eater, no, I don't like those people you call friends and I'm not going to pretend I do, yes, dammit, I enjoy partying, and no, I'm not a fan of anime anymore.
I replaced my ten-year-old bedding with a more mature brown and blue set, 400 thread count sheets, matching pillowcases. I'm getting rid of the stacks of lightsabers, the anime posters, the Hot Topic buttons and knick-knacks. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child: now that I am become an [adult], I have put away childish things. 1 Corinthians 13:11
It's time to put away childish things.
I'm done believing in fairy tales. They teach nothing but to hope and wish for things that are impossible. Hope, like the tales it springs from, is naught but a dirty, dirty lie.
Grownup time now.
It marked the end of ten years-- I've had this bedding since right before my sophomore year of high school. Pink roses on a white damask-- it was a representation, somewhat, of my softer side, my "girlie" side.
It was a part of me I tried for year to come to terms with, and inevitably failed. Roses wilt, fairy tales never come true, there are no such thing as knights in shining armor or handsome princes.
There is, however, growing up.
I've been through many relationships, all of them utter failures. I remain friends with many of my ex's, and others I'd like to see die on fire. I've known love, I've known hurt and betrayal, I've been abused. Damaged goods? I think more highly of myself than that, but I can see where I might get that label.
I am more damaged now than I was before. I cope. Coping means growing up, being myself-- without fear or illusions. It means I am a club kid again; I don't care if it scares the nerds away. It means that I drink more... I don't care if other people don't like it. It means, yes, I'm a finicky eater, no, I don't like those people you call friends and I'm not going to pretend I do, yes, dammit, I enjoy partying, and no, I'm not a fan of anime anymore.
I replaced my ten-year-old bedding with a more mature brown and blue set, 400 thread count sheets, matching pillowcases. I'm getting rid of the stacks of lightsabers, the anime posters, the Hot Topic buttons and knick-knacks. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child: now that I am become an [adult], I have put away childish things. 1 Corinthians 13:11
It's time to put away childish things.
I'm done believing in fairy tales. They teach nothing but to hope and wish for things that are impossible. Hope, like the tales it springs from, is naught but a dirty, dirty lie.
Grownup time now.