8.31.2018

Angstville. Population: me


It’s a hard thing to realize you have piqued when you were in your teens...
Lately, I’ve been ruminating on the fact that I don’t operate exactly the same way I used to. And it bothers me. 

Let me explain:

I used to have so much energy. I couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. I had ideas constantly flooding my thoughts. I would spend hours acting out conversations with evil nemeses or my current love interest—or both, in the case of one girl in particular…

Lately, however, I’ve noticed I sit a lot more. I mean a LOT more. And then there’s the lack of ideas. Sometimes I actually sit—get ready for it—without thinking at all! I know, hard to believe. But the truth is, if I had this blog back then, I’d have posted Every. Single. Day. Comparatively, that’s really significant. 

Oh, to have my teen years back with what I know now! There’s nothing I couldn’t accomplish. I would be the master of my domain, the captain of my own ship—the hero of my own story! At least more than I was then, and certainly more than I am now. 

Of course, there were some bad things about adolescence. I mean, I had things all over my face that would only show up whenever I had a class with some girl I was particularly smitten by. Or, that crazy emotional roller coaster I was riding every day. 

I mean, I ride one now, but that’s just seasonal affective bipolar—er disorder. Back then, though, it was the toggle between being on top of the world, and completely underneath it being brought on by a hearty dose of hormones and parents who liked to counter every attempt I made at being awesome with some mundane task, chore, or homework assignment. 

But nothing got to me more than relationships. Or the threat of one, at least. I wasn’t what you would call the most social person back then (This was before twitter and texting—heck, we didn’t even have pagers yet!). So, mostly, I would just sit in the back of the room and pine away after some girl in the hopes that she would come to her senses and just start talking to me out of the blue. 

Only, that never happened. 

In fact, I can’t even bear to think where my life’d be if I had actually had the gumption to talk to one of these micro-obsessions I fed off of. Oh, that’s right: fed off of. You know what I mean… Thinking about all the great opportunities you’re missing every day. Role-playing into the mirror every debonair move you can think of. Dreaming up scenarios wherein you might actually run into the other person outside of that gaggle of friends she always seems to be surrounded by— uh, this is all hypothetical, of course…  

Teen movies were a staple. Romantic songs would jump-start the heart. Smells would twist my guts into a knot and squeeze my heart till it hurt. And, of course, mom and dad were only there to make sure nothing ever worked out right. 


Yeah, come to think of it, I’m actually really happy I’m not a teenager anymore. But, man, I sure do miss the hair.

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