Well, not really. It’s not like I don’t go to school every day, taking the bus or riding my bike across the SE. It’s not like I don’t go to the random all-ages show, or to movies and other cultural events. It’s not like I’m chained to my bedroom – I even have a decent curfew, and my Mom tolerates teenage adventures. I have friends all over the world, and I’m terribly, stunningly cool.
It’s just that I literally never go out. It’s Valentine’s Day next Monday and no boy or girl or imaginary being has even hinted that they want me to be theirs. I pass by the Valentine’s Booth and I know that no one has put down even one dollar to send me a card – it makes me want to puke up my lunch. I would send out mine – but my freshman year faves rejected and embarrassed me so much I never hear the end of it. I’m scared of seeming a complex fool for wanting something so simple.
I act like I don’t care, but I do. I want amazing heart-happenings, for my crushes to crush back, for the sun itself to pick me, and shoot out my perfect match, like Hikari riding the lightning. But life is not a video game, and the best t-shirts and hoodie punky patches aren’t making them line up at the bus stop, waiting to pay my fare.
I wish I had a time machine, so I could jump ahead a few years and be done with my awkardness and aimless wishes. I want to be having crazy college flings in a city I didn’t grow up in, and I don’t care if it puts me in debt until I retire – I just need my soul to sing, and fast.