Just a Girl Trying to Find Her Place In This World

[22wanderlust22]

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[22wanderlust22]

Lost Friendships

A letter to the best friend I assumed I’d grow old with, our future kids growing up being besties.

We were friends. Real friends. I always assumed you’d remain a constant in my life.

You always knew what I needed. You had no qualms challenging me, putting me in my place. You’d call me out for being stubborn and irrational. But, you were also there to hold my hand when the world was quiet and I needed some guidance. You were there through all the crazy. You hated the guys that treated me wrong, you’d stand up when I was being mistreated. It was in your arms where I constantly took refuge.

We never intended for this -- for both of us to go our separate ways. I don’t think we could have even seen it coming. But, life happened. We both went our separate ways - we got so wrapped up in our lives, in the little things, that we slowly stopped talking. Daily texts became weekly calls which eventually turned into monthly messages. We weren’t ready to go our separate ways, it just sort of happened.

I look back on our friendship and wonder the moment it all went wrong. Maybe it was just time and distance. Maybe friendships like ours were only meant to be temporary, fleeting. Or maybe we both did stupid things - out of spite, out of anger, but we were too stubborn to take it all back.

We found ourselves missing the other, but we were so filled with pride, so unbelievably stubborn, to ever reach out. To let them know we were thinking about them. We missed them. We needed them.

Maybe it was natural. Maybe that’s how life goes.

Or, maybe we feared reaching out. We feared them not caring. We feared not getting a response.

[22wanderlust22]

Dating the Overthinker

Here’s what it’s like to date an overthinker:

She repeats every mistake she’s ever made. Over and Over again. She doesn’t intend to. She doesn’t like being one of those ‘crazy girls’, the ones who can’t leave the past in the past. oh and the past can refer to something just 5 mins ago. It just sort of happens.

She places the blame on herself, more than she’d ever like to. Every fight - she blames herself. She replays the details. Over and over again. Wondering if she could have done things differently. She has a tendency to be a bit self centered. She blames herself. Not the outside world. Always.

You’ll see it in ways far past your relationship.

You’ll see it as she frantically rereads a work email sent, Double checking. Triple checking. No mistakes were made. As she replays the mistake she made weeks ago, Asking if you think everyone still remembers. If she’s the laughing stalk behind closed doors.

You’ll see it as she questions if she turned off the oven. If she locked the door. If she turned off the straightener.

You’ll see it as she sometimes runs. Convinced she’s just too much.

She’s an overthinker. Million thoughts always floating above. It’s always been this way, baby she can’t stop.

[22wanderlust22]

Girls Holding on to the Boy Who’s Already Left

Here’s to the girls so desperately holding on to the boy that’s already left.

We’ve all been there before. We’re so damn into this guy that we find ourselves blind to all the signs clearly there. He no longer texts us during normal waking hours. Every day we used to talk. But, that slowly changed to the weekend nightly texts - Baby, I miss you. I’m drunk. Meet up with me and my boys? You already had plans. You know you shouldn’t go. And yet, you find yourself grabbing an uber. He said he misses you. This time it’ll be different, you plea. You text your friends a lame excuse. You tell them you’re not one of those girls who bails. But, you have to see this out. If you don’t go tonight, he could be gone forever. So you drink, you chill with the bros. You go back to his place. He tells you he has errands to run, it all seems so believable. So you quietly go.

Those texts used to be so regular. But, slowly even those became rare occurrences. You’d get all dolled up friday night with your girls, hoping you’d run into him. You’ll never text him thought, to let him know you care. Let him know you want to see him. Nah. That would make you the weaker person. And our generation is always focused on caring less - always on the defense, never the offense.

He never texts you anymore. But, you’re convinced he could still care. You make bullshit excuses - oh he’s just busy. You see the snaps of him working late. He’s busy. That’s it. Except you know it’s a lie. You also see the snaps of him getting drunk with his buddies. On repeat. Over and over again.

You don’t want to admit it. That you could be forgotten. So damn easily. So you hold on to this alternative reality -- where he’s busy now. But, in the future, he’ll reach out. You know he could be the one.

[22wanderlust22]

Silence

My world used to be filed with noise. Chaos. Clutter. We used to talk every day and through our talks I felt fireworks. Even in the moments we sat in silence, I still felt at ease - knowing you were right there, at arms length. I never felt alone. 

We used to talk about our futures, like we ever even had a clue. We were young. Reckless. And yet, we talked about our futures with such ease -- I was going to get a job East Coast and you’d follow soon after. We’d pack our bags and hit the road, never looking back.

We used to talk every day - morning to night. You were the one person I thought would always remain a constant in my life. I never imagined a world without you. A world without daily talks about politics, our futures, our love lives. I never thought there’d come a day when I couldn’t pick up my phone and find comfort crying in your arms. I never thought it would get complicated.

But, just like that - life happened. Instead of road tripping from West Coast to East Coast, we road tripped in different life directions. We said goodbye. Except, we never really said goodbye. We just stopped talking.

So now you’re gone. And I’m left here. All alone, drenched in my silence.

[22wanderlust22]

I no longer think about you..

I no longer think about you. Drunk. Sober. In a crowded subway. Waiting for my date.

Our song plays and I no longer cringe, instantaneously grabbing to the radio knob. I can eat at the restaurant, the one we had our first date at. I finally unpacked the dress I had on the night you finally told me you loved me. I no longer long for you.

I can’t even place the moment it truly happened. The instance when I realized you were no longer mine. You were a chapter in my past, a chapter never intended to make it to my future. I wouldn’t say it was overnight, but eventually I woke up and realized a part of me no was no longer missing.

I know I should be happy, right? I’m no longer the love sick puppy, putting her life on hold for the boy who will never love her back. I finally have my life back. I should be so unbelievably happy and yet I feel lost.

10 years. I’ve always been that girl. The girl waiting for the boy to realize what’s right in front of her eyes. I spent my life living in slow motion, allowing a piece of myself to always remain missing. I know it wasn’t right. I was so much stronger than that. But, reality is, I always let a piece of me remain missing.

I spent my whole life wanting you. Alienating others along the way.

But, I’m no longer broken. Baby, I’m whole.

Except I don’t know how to be whole.

I don’t know how to live in a world where you’re not there. Or maybe that’s a lie. I’ve finally learned to live in a world without you. But, I don’t know how to live in a world where I’m happy. Where you no longer linger in the back of my mind during every conversation, every attempt to move on, every moment I get good news.

I’m stronger now. I’m happier now. But, if I’m not the love struck girl, then who am I?

[22wanderlust22]

25.

25. A quarter of a century. 25 was the year I was supposed to be on my way to marriage, having kids, making a name for myself in terms of career.

You know that Blink 182 song? What’s my age again. There’s that iconic line - nobody likes you when you’re 23. I remember being a kid and thinking 23? Damn. That’s old. So old. At 23, I’m going to be an adult, ready to take the world on, head first. But 23 passed, 24 came and went, and before I knew it I was 25. A quarter of a century.

I told myself I wouldn’t freak out. It’s just another year. Another number. 25 means nothing. But, then I turned 25 and found myself a bit more lost. 25 seemed too old to be still living at home. Too old to have no cares in the world. 25 was only 5 years away from 30, the year I always wanted to have kids by.

I thought I’d have more figured out. I think we all did. We’re millennials - the generation of quick impulses. Living life in the moment, figuring we’ll deal with the consequences later. So we acted young. Reckless. We focused on finding our passions, even if that meant quitting one job for the next for the next. We spent our paychecks on immediate comforts, things we probably didn’t need and definitely couldn’t afford. We told ourselves it’s fine, we’re young.

But, here I am 25. Realizing it’s time I say goodbye to nights spent binge drinking. Paychecks spent on shots I can’t afford. Moments spent dating the fun guy, the one I don’t see a future with, but the one that keeps me on my toes. His wanderlust matches mine.

I keep telling myself. 25. It’s just a number. I can still hold onto my youth. But, I know I’m wrong. And on the quietest of nights, I hear the inner, logical me saying 25. Baby girl, you’re 25. You’re not a kid anymore. It’s time to find yourself.

[22wanderlust22]

25 and lost

Here’s to the girls who thought they’d have more figured out at 25.

You know that Blink 182 song - What’s my age again? There’s that line - nobody likes you when you’re 23. I remember being a kid and thinking 23 sounded so old. 23 was the age of full blown adults.

But, I passed through 23 and somehow through 24 too. And eventually entered the age of the quarter life crisis.

I thought at 25, I’d have more figured out. On one side, I thought I’d be married, possibly even on my way to having kids.

And on the other side, I thought I’d be succeeding in my career. I figured I’d have savings, a home, a place that was all mine.

I was convinced that I’d have a name for myself. And yet I’m sitting here at 25, more alone than ever.

Maybe that’s why we cling so desperately to our youth.

[22wanderlust22]

Youth

Here’s to the girls so desperately to hold on to their youth.

What is it about us, clinging to being young?

Maybe it’s cause we thought we’d have more figured out by now. At 25, I thought I’d be married maybe even having kids. I thought I’d have savings. A home. A place that was all mine. And yet here I am, 25, lost and all alone.

So instead I coined this phrase, yoyo. You’re only young once.

You can see us at the bar. We’re the ones buying extra shots. The ones we can’t afford.

Maybe it’s cause we thought we’d have more figured out by now. And if we don’t have anything figured out and we’re not adulting, we might as well stay young.

[22wanderlust22]

We promised we’d keep in touch, things would always be the same. Distance got nothing on us. We always said we’d be there for the big moments.

And I think we genuinely meant it. We were convinced we could stand still and life would always be the same.

But, daily calls became weekly chats, which eventually turned into monthly messages. Before we knew it, it was just a text for the big things - the promotions, when the guy they didn’t even know we were seeing made it official, when we moved to a new city.

We promised this wouldn’t happen. We’d never say goodbye. And damn did we try.

But a part of us new it was time to let go.

Maybe the best days are behind us. Even if it feels like just yesterday, bonds were formed in a mere instance. Bad days could be cured with a quick walk down the hall. Nights could be spent laughing, dancing on table tops. And mornings could be spent piecing together the stupid things from last night.

[22wanderlust22]

To the girls who never feel good enough:

Hey beautiful.

I see you standing there dissecting every feature of yourself. The curves you refuse to love, the mistakes you made at work, every test you bombed, the moments you had a hott mess moment in front of a loved one.

You sit there, hating yourself. 

You’re never going to be one of them. A smart girl. A pretty girl. A girl worthy of love.

What is it about us that we thrive in the negativity. We remember every excruciating time we were told we weren’t good enough, we weren’t smart enough, we weren’t pretty enough. We repeat them over and over again. We chose to believe we’re dark and twisty souls incapable of succeeding.

We replay the harsh words over and over again.

We thrive in the negativity refusing to acknowledge the friends who believe in us, time after time.

The ones telling us we have a voice and to use it. The ones who see the spark in our eyes. The ones telling us we’re going to change the world.

We replay the mistakes we’ve made, replaying the voices telling us we’re stupid, it’s what stupid girls do. But we forget to acknowledge the moments we succeeded. The times we took charge at work. The problems we’ve solved.

We replay the boys who told us we weren’t good enough. We weren’t pretty enough. We were too much. Refusing to acknowledge the others telling us how beautiful we are. How passionate we are.

We chose to thrive in the negativity, forgetting to thank the ones telling us how strong, smart, capable we are. The ones telling us we’re going to change the world, we just got to believe it.

[22wanderlust22]

Drunk Words. Sober Thoughts. or some bullshit.

You. Yeah You. I see you. I am you. Texting all the wrong guys at 2am when the world is quiet and you got no where to run.

We justify it so easily. Drunk words. Sober thoughts. He still cares we plea.

We’re not naive. We know what we’re doing. Ignorance is a bliss, we yell.

There’s something about the unfiltered nature of drunk thoughts. Our words spewing out the truth, No protection of mental capability to process things.

So we justify it.

Making all the wrong choices, over and over again.

We let them treat us like shit. Chanting our motto - Drunk words. Sober thoughts. Over and over again.

--priya jain

[22wanderlust22]

Gypsy Life

I’ve always been a gypsy, I can’t stay in the same place for too long.

I used to think it’s cause I live by this notion: ‘People always leave, sometimes you need to leave before you get left’ That notions always translated into so much more than just people.

Yes, I’ve pushed boys away that I’ve loved as I feared being too much.

But, I’ve also never focused on my career as I believed it was temporary, I never saw myself becoming the CEO of a company. So I did the bare minimum, hoping to go unnoticed.

A part of me also thought - being fired also means getting a fresh start. It means being forced to start over. A free pass to start my next adventure.

I stopped talking to friends when I saw them getting busy. A part of me thinks I did it as I feared their busyness leading to them forgetting me.

But, I’m starting to realize, the gypsy girl in me comes from so much more than just that notion.

I’ve always been that girl - the anywhere but here girl. There’s a part of me that craves adventure. Too long in one place and I’m already drifting.

Something about that word - Gypsy - seems to push boys away. I think they fear I’ll choose adventure over them.

To those boys I say: I get bored easily. So challenge me. Teach me something new. Surprise me with little things. A picnic on a beach an hour away.

Realize, I will always be that girl. Dreaming of her next adventure. But, also realize that I want you to be part of that adventure. I don’t want to go through these fleeting moments on my own.

Being a gypsy doesn’t mean I’ll leave you.

Baby, I’d never pick adventure over you.

[22wanderlust22]

I’ll never understand how you are so good at saying goodbye. How you can fleet from one adventure to the next without ever looking back.

I’ll never understand how you are so good at dealing with heartbreak. How you can break girls heart, without a care in the world. Moving from one girl to the next. Victims. Pried at your fingertips.

I’ll never understand any of it.

Cause Me? I hold on to everything.

The Wolf of Wall Street movie stub from a first date. The Bart ticket from when a packed train stopped And my ‘people claustrophobia’ kicked in and I took refuge in his arms.

My high school graduation cap still hangs in my room. Memorabilias from college spread all over.

A part of me wishes I could be like you. Leaving it all behind and never looking back. Maybe it would make staying in this town easier.

But, I don’t think I could ever be like you. In a sense, that would make me heartless. Cold.

I like to feel. Even if feeling sometimes is too much.

But I can’t help but think about the relationships I’ve stayed in That were far from healthy, But I stayed as I feared moving on.

Or the jobs I’ve stayed at because I feared starting over. I feared making new friends. Finding my way. Leaving my old ones in the past.

I’ll never understand your ability to leave the past in the past. To close chapters, pretending like they never existed.

I’ll never understand how you are so good at saying goodbye. How you can fleet from one adventure to the next without ever looking back.

[22wanderlust22]

Text from You

As I lay here, I pick up my phone and I notice a text from you. It’s been years and yet I still find myself missing you.

You ask me if I’m okay. You got a message from a friend saying I needed help and immediately you reached out. I thought that after everything we’ve been through, there’s no way you can still care. And yet you still do. You still worry about my happiness. You’re still the one person who will always reach out and always make sure I’m okay. Day or night.

But where does this leave me? What do I do next?

I message you back and ask for the help I need? Or I stay strong and stand my ground? 

[22wanderlust22]

Craving a Drink

It’s four o’clock and as I close my laptop, ready to say goodbye to my 9-5 job, I find myself craving a drink so badly.

It’s been a rough few weeks, and every inch of me is craving for that drink.

But, I know I can’t. I know I need to learn balance and moderation or learn to accept and live a life where alcohol never touches my lips again.

So here I am, sitting with this craving, so I picked up this pen and paper, hoping if I get my thoughts onto paper maybe it’ll help.

I don’t get how it could get so bad. How the cravings could turn from mental to physical. From craving it to help me numb my anxieties and pain to being physically dependent where a night without a drink leads to an intense, inexplicable craving.

It’s been a rough few months and while I do find myself craving it to help numb my pain. I also find myself wanting it for the sake of wanting it. And maybe that’s what scares me because I know if I take just one sip, I’ll crave another. I know I can’t just drink one drink tonight. Because one drink will turn to two which will turn to three.

So what do I do? Finally admit I have a problem and need to give up drinking entirely -- once and for all?

[22wanderlust22]

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