birthday and other musings

I’ve never been one to assess growth to any arbitrary numbers, so turning 22 yesterday wasn’t anything particularly special. Despite that, reflecting on the amount of growth that I’ve managed in the past year made me realize that you really do tend to grow up without noticing it. Last year I dipped into 21 in typical style, tons of drinks and almost throwing up in class the next day. Personally I felt like 21 came and went in a drunken haze, as I felt what it was really like to be obligation-free for a long while. 

To sum it up:

yeah. I had been in this perpetual cycle of terrible and heavy relationships for tons of years, and once I was really single, I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I partied a lot, found simple joys in it all. But you know what? Living it up from the summer to about a month ago, it got old really fast.

In formulaic fashion, it was get shitfaced, do embarassing things as a group, then laugh about it the next day. Rinse and repeat 3-4 times a week for 6 months. And you know what? It had it’s merit. There is this sense of group cohesion when you strip away the paranoia and masks and just do what you want to do with people you’re friends with. Prior to this year, there has always been this internal pressure to maintain some sort of identity. Only now do I realize that there’s a really relevant term for this: Double identity. To lay it out simply, you are what you see in the mirror and introspectively, that is you. Yet your second identity is built in your appearance and what other people make of you. While they’re never exactly one and the same, to not worry about this for a few months was seriously therapeutic. However for some more than others, this grows old fast. For the first time my body was really telling me no, and I felt it in my daily activities. The headaches, and when I couldn’t distinguish between being tired and a hangover,  I figured it was time to stop.

Yet ‘figuring’ out I should stop and actually stopping was two different things. Somewhere in October I was already telling myself that it needed to change, but I was still going out 2-3 times a week by early December. My body and my bank account were sore. Somehow by a random sequence of events, I ended up meeting her, the one who manages to make me feel comfortable with who I am, but strive to be better at the same time.

Fast forward to New Year’s Eve 2010, 27 days before I turned 22. My life had been such a blur for the past year, and yet this night forever remains burned in my head. The night was no different, all senses on overload and completely floored, yet my brain tried so hard to keep every single moment saved somewhere so I could reflect on it in the future. Between the first time we held hands to some indeterminate time, something clicked. It felt like the puzzle pieces I had thrown on the side of my brain and given up on had suddenly found a new piece to make all the others come together. I don’t remember the exact moment where I began to realize that our friendship had become something more to me, but what began as a seedling began sprouting at an astonishing rate. While I was sitting there, 1000s of thoughts raced through my head every second. Past conversations, meetings, everything with her. My brain was trying to make sense of something that my heart had dropped on the door. It was the biggest P/NP problem of my life: If all signs had pointed this out to be a remarkable friendship, what is this feeling deep inside my chest? I began to worry that this was once again a cruel twist of fate, because we weren’t exactly meant to be together. And yet at the same time, through the circumstances, the way we ended up together makes perfect sense. But I was really worried that this was all just some inner musings of a crazy e-tard, and that she was merely being nice because we were such good friends.

Sitting there hand in hand, the lights and music suddenly came to a halt. I quickly looked at the clock, to discover that there was an hour left, and that the rave wasn’t over. Oh my did I thank the heavens at that point, but I wanted to stretch that hour out for another 100. I didn’t want the night to end, the connection to fade. To have something so substantial last for mere hours.. I was silently acknowledging the pitfalls of MDMA. I remember the music stopping for one last time, and as the lights turned on we stared at each other. Not knowing what either of us were thinking, both of us continued to smile and not worry about it, at least on the surface. Holding hands and hugging, we walked around just being as happy as can be. I think somewhere underneath though, there was a growing sense of worrying brewing. Even in the 30 degree weather, I just wanted the night to continue. Walking with her was similar to the Green Mile, and although the MDMA was still hitting, as the night closed I continued to think: This isn’t a fluke. I know it isn’t. Even if we’re just friends though, I would love to be as close to her as possible. I sincerely care and vibe with this person more than anyone I have ever met. 

(I pause to note that this is the second time we actually met in person).

By the time we got to the car, she was in the backseat, talking to her best friend. I felt a slight clingyness at that point already, like someone trying to cling onto the last vestige of the connection that we shared, but truly caring, I just wanted her to reflect and be happy with the night talking to someone who has known her for her lifetime. We ended the night in front of her house, and although I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t really contain myself. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, as some kind of half-sign: I’m interested! I can’t help it! Please don’t hate me for it. 

As the night continued, I responded to each text with an uncommon thoughtfulness. On one hand I didn’t want to be too forward given our circumstances, but at the same time I didn’t want her to think that I wasn’t interested either. This act continued for the next few days, but as time went along, it became more clear that it wasn’t one sided. Despite all of this compelling evidence, I continued to doubt myself, because like mentioned in a previous post, my previous mentality was rather prepare for the worst. 

We went to hang out together alone, and spent the night driving around Irvine just talking as much as we possibly could. There were moments of silence, but it all fit perfectly. Dissecting our lives and telling stories, all while burning 1/2 a tank of gas. As the sun began to rise, we found ourselves arriving in perfect fashion for what could be considered the greatest sunrise in the history of sunrises. The colors accented the sky in ways that only the greatest artists in the world could imagine, and they’d probably have to be on LSD or something. We continued to talk the night away into day, and as much as I wanted to hold her hand, was just too shy. This, if anything, was something that I would not screw up, and I would make sure it was alright. As the morning continued, we ..

ill continue this later, brb getting drunk

1 year ago  /  Notes