I always imagined that I’ll be excited when it’s finally time to prepare for university. Going away and growing up and all that. As I sit here, senior year half a month away, I’m the farthest from excited as can be. I’m petrified; anxious. Nervous and stressed. I used to be intrigued by the idea of living on my own, away from my parents. I’d imagine growing up and learning how to be independent and finding out what I want to do with rest of my life. Somewhere along the line I lost all interest in doing all that.
Truth be told I’m scared. I’m not even going to bother finding a better adjective. I’m scared. I’m so, so scared. And it’s so fucking selfish. I get all these opportunities thrown right onto my lap and I feel I can’t handle them. I get an all-expenses-paid opportunity to go to whatever school I want, in whatever country I want, to study whatever the fuck it is I want and I feel like I’m suffocating.
It hit me the other day that I’m in the second half of my teens at this point. When you’re 14, shit doesn’t matter. You’re young and you’ve got it all ahead of you and you have so much time to do things, and so much time to plan and so much time to daydream. Although it’s only three years later, I feel like a very different person. You sit there and prepare for college but none of it is really serious. It’s all in the planning stage. I guess I never expected to make it to this point. I always knew 2014 is my graduation year but I never thought it would actually come.
All this time I thought I had things figured out. I’ll go to New York and study journalism and become this international professional by my late twenties. Now I think everything I planned is so unrealistic. I’m afraid of being unhappy. I’m afraid of being lost and broke and alone. I’m afraid of running out of time before I get to do everything I always wanted to do.