maybe...

maybe what I thought I wanted all along isn’t what I really want. Maybe the best thing I’ve learned at these jobs is that this is not what I want do. Maybe I don’t want to live in New York City. Maybe I want to live somewhere just as artsy but more laid back and relaxing, where it is okay to not be anxious all the time. Maybe I really want to make a difference, to help people. Maybe I really want to write a novel – or ten. Maybe I want to devote all my efforts into this. Maybe I want to live in an apartment that isn’t the size of a shoebox and not have to pay an arm and a leg for it. Maybe I want to go down south. Maybe I want to go to street fairs and farmers markets and thrift shops, but also to the mall. Maybe I want to work for a nonprofit. Maybe I want to love what I do. Maybe I want to do something that actually makes me feel fulfilled.

I am at a crossroad right now. I was always so decisive. I had my life all planned out by the age of twelve. As it turns out, it was all just a crutch for my anxiety – a way to deal with the unknown. But you know what? Maybe the unknown isn’t so bad after all.

p.s. my heart goes out to those in the Colorado shooting. I actually know one of the victims personally - not well, but we work together at school. Luckily, it seems that he is okay - or at least stabilized.