"You're wrong, you know. You DO count. You've always counted, and I've always trusted you. You were right. I'm not okay..." -from the BBC series Sherlock
i scribbled down these jumble of words at midnight a few nights since past - the thought of sleeping never crossed my mind as my heart was so full and my throat stifling so many stubborn tears that blurred my vision despite my attempts of shoving them back, and the paper never before seemed so welcoming...
as a dear dear reader, you do not live in my world but only posses such a tiny window into it within such a minute rectangular box composed of jumbled words that it can hardly describe half of the every-day life I am living. having such a small insignificant glance into my world {even stopping by to read my worthless ramblings and extending your interest and love in the form of notes is most humbling}, I should hardly want in any way to make you believe my world is perfect. the world that so often times feels the need to be different; to be perfect. and simply put: it's not.
I am a silly foolish human being. I struggle every. single. day. and more often times fall as much as having no wish to get back up again. at moments, I find it so cruel, time can trammel upon life casting no sympathy, all the while expecting me to follow and live.
so.
I have composed a little list of my faults - some of which comprised of my innermost thoughts. I have no wish to sound immature, snobbish, or self-centered in any way at all, as I list off these rather foolish yet-oh-so-affecting woes of life, nor should I want you to think my life is so utterly dismal, in which it is not. I want you to view me as a real-human being, not just a girl behind the screen, and to be completely and wholly honest with you, dear friend, I think it good to reveal the real raw me to the world. I only pray, to encourage any young lady reading this, whose heart can completely and utterly relate.
i. I struggle with false expectations of how my life, at this age, should be like with tons of friends and activities to occupy my time. now, I know that tons of shallow friendships could never replace the relationships with young ladies who I have come to call my close-knit sister, but over these past few months, I have come to realize {after analyzing my heart}, that I truly do love people. I love being surrounded in the company of people, learning their life stories, sharing a smile or challenging myself to make them smile. another name for that, is being a social butterfly, or so I've heard. but all my life, I feel as though I have touched little lives of people my age, and I have often questioned why the Lord has set me aside, apart from a desire that seems so pure and simple. I have attempted to become involved in plenty of activities {sports, speech, theatre, dance, swimming, music} - actually every activity under the sun {with the exception of attending public school} I have tried my hand out, but every time God closes the door. and I have struggled desperately to bow my head and accept.
ii. I struggle with loneliness. I am an only child, living in a small town, in a small homeschool group, in a small community, in a small church, in small social circles, in a small family - everything which surrounds me is small, except for the "great wide somewhere," which encompasses its outer walls. isolation is a word I detest with my whole being, but that's one of the words to which wholly describes my world at times.
iii. I struggle with liking my family. not my immediate family, mind you, although I do not always respect my wonderful parents as I should, but my aunts and uncles and more specifically the person I feel at times forced to call my sister. jealousy is familiar feeling as I look upon "normal families" who have two sets of grandparents {all mine have since past} and friends who have normal siblings who even if they are not always a "big happy family" they love each other. truly love each other.
iv. I often struggle with wishing I lived *so-and-so's* life with her big family, loving siblings, and flourishing opportunities. although, I love this friend with a sister's heart alone, deep down I know I wish my life was like hers {perhaps, NOT her's but similar}.
v. I often struggle with learning the purpose of my life. my friends seem so sure of themselves: one wants to be a writer, one a writer/film producer, another a counselor, whilst the other a secretary, and always there passions for life can be so clear and obvious...and then there's me. who posses one talent she holds so dear to her heart but feels like it cannot be applicable to life. to make things. as much as I enjoy swimming and writing and making music, these pastimes do not come close to my love for crafting. and it seems to me, at times, so unfair that everybody else has some desire to support themselves in life, whereas I hold onto just a mere hobby {more like an obsession of sorts} that in reality is just wishful thinking to go into as a supportive career.
there's so many wars I've fought in my head. so many things, I know I'm not. but with God's grace and strength alone, I promise you that::
we'll keep marching on.
x. | the girl in the garden.
postscript :: have you figured out that I'm a onerepublic fan yet? *smile*
