Beating around the Bush

Mood: Pensieve

A couple of people told me that my blog is a little bit vague. That it talks about a lot but at the same time nothing. That it's "sometimes difficult to get a straight answer out of" Or that it's used to be a "double edged sword that are always more about someone else than they are about you.”

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. I do know that it's hard to walk the fine line between letting this be my cathartic (that's for you Jess!) and making people upset by what they read (especially if I'm upset or sad or confused when i'm blogging and if it concerns them). This isn't my diary with a lock, but it is one of my forms of self-expression. Let me be vague! Let me dance around the point! Let me beat around the bush!

For once though, there's no bush, there's no "double edge sword" there's no deep well of thought. This is just me and you may never read it because I may never post it because then I'd be vulnerable and I Hate that. Capital H Hate that.

I don't know if it was Grey's or drama of the past week or the fact that change is coming but I'm sad, I'm lonely, and I'm so so sick of being an adult. I'm sick of making decisions. I'm sick of dreading unevitable talks. I'm sick of being mature. I'm sick of responsibility.

Someone told me last week that I was exceptionally mature for my age and I laughed until I realized they were serious. I wanted to say "me?! Exceptionally mature?! Ha! Me??" I have this fear that people that think that I'm mature are going to someday "Catch me out" and find out that all the glitter and gloss of this "mature" me is just me playing dress-up, wearing my mother's shoes clomping along and trying not to fall.

If I were mature wouldn't I embrace change? Wouldn't it make me happy instead of make me sad? Instead, with everything that's happening I just feel sad, and the finality I feel (that inevetiably comes with change) just makes me want to cry. The kind of cry where you sit on someone's couch or your dad's lap and cry. I think maybe it's a girl thing. Wow I sound depressing.

This pensieve mood I've been in has also set me to longing. Longing to fall in love, to be able to go home to my husband, to just have that someone that understands me and that is here that has my ring on his finger. But then there's this part of me that says "something is better than the nothing you have right now" and that part longs for the drama of the familiar of what I had, what I've walked away from, what I've gone back to, what I know isn't good for anyone involved (ok, so i'm being a little vague). But I also know that isn't what the "mature me", the me I want to be wants.

One of my favorite songs for times like these is Sara Groves "painting pictures of egypt". I feel like I'm in the middle of this change, doing this I wouldn't necessarily do, taking accountability, being the mature me more and more often, but still looking back thinking "that was fun", but turning around isn't an option anymore because "the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I've learned. Those roads were closed off to me, while my back was turned"

Hope you enjoyed it. Does anyone else feel this way?