Thurs, Feb. 12
... Bound by the life you left behind
Just in a funk, you know? No particular reason... just... blah. These weeks are going way too fast--I can't believe it's already Thursday. I can't believe that Valentine's Day is in two days. Pathetic.
Latest fun acquisition in my life? A new cell phone. One that's cooler than my old one. Newer, hence cooler.
Speaking of newer and cooler... okay, maybe just newer, not cooler... A little over a year ago, I was shocked and surprised to hear that Josh, a guy I knew in elementary school (my best friend's younger brother), and his wife had a baby. That made me feel old. And then, this week, they had their second.
The weirdest thing about that was looking at the pictures that they sent, and seeing Josh, and still seeing a 10-year-old. I mean, not really, but sort of. Seeing a face that I knew when it was 8, and realizing that it's a dad with two kids now. There's something about it that just freaked me out a little.
*sigh* I feel like I'm being constantly bombarded with the message that "you're a bad friend." And sometimes, friend-slash-person. Mostly, it comes from one party, but it's interesting how that can skew my view of everything else, and it makes me ultra-paranoid to other little comments or behaviors or attitudes or actions that may or may not be interpreted that way.
It comes down to taking responsibility for my thoughts and actions. Realizing that I can't blame someone else for the way that I think they think about me. Realizing that I can just be me, and that the times when things get out of hand will come, but I just have to deal with it.
It's tiring, though. It's exhausting to sift through the piles of opinions and statements thrown at me every day, and weed out the ones worth listening to.
Why can't I be content in the knowledge that God loves me, and the rest is just gravy. Why does it matter so much what other people think, and why do I let myself get so affected by it? Why can't I just be secure and rest in the assurance of my Heavenly Father?
That's more than enough. It always has been and it always will be, but it's difficult to remember that sometimes.
One year ago today: Between classes, I soaked my head in the sink and wrapped it in a towel. My first scene, I blow-dried my hair as my activity during the scene... my second scene, I stuck it back and changed into a formal dress and heels. Yeah. Only in class, doing scene presentations, would I go through three different outfits in an hour. It was fun times, though. I can't complain.
infinite || abyss
posted at 3:01 p.m.
