How To Become The Person You Want To Be by Ryan O'Connell

You’re missing something. You’re watching everything pass you by and it’s making you anxious but you’re not quite sure how to catch up. A small part of you doesn’t even want to catch up. You’ve become comfortable in your complacency, comfortable in your own mistakes. Your slip ups have become some kind of solace. They’re yours to keep. Flaws have become some sick substitute for a relationship and you take them to bed with you.

You’re too young to be completely happy. You’re currently living your lost years and even though it’s taking you down, you’re not ready for the alternative. Something that no one likes to admit is that it sort of feels good to screw up. You don’t think you know exactly what you’re doing? You can pretend to be naive to spare everyone else’s feelings but let’s not get confused: you’re in control here. Every step of the way.

That is, until you’re not. The thing about being a mess is that you eventually do lose control. The self-destructive spiral you’ve been orchestrating gets ripped away from you and put in the hands of something much bigger. Then you’re f***ed. Then you’re going to be saying “JK! Take me back to the land of stability and normalcy! I’m done living my lost years. Now I just would like to be found!”

Your life is precarious. When you were in high school and college, you treated your mortality like it was a crappy purse. You stomped on it, broke a strap, let a vodka bottle spill out and ruin the leather. You did all of this believing it would all be repaired while you were sleeping, and it usually was. You reach a point, however, when the leather stays torn, when the piece of crap bag becomes beaten beyond repair. Simply put, you have to take a more proactive role in maintaining your happiness and well-being. You’re not just someone watching their own life from afar. You’re in it now. And if you don’t take care of it, it will fall to pieces.

This is how someone becomes the person they want to be. They make changes. They stop taking those pills, clutching those drinks, and start deleting those numbers in their phone that might as well be daggers. They take responsibility for themselves. This might sound so minor but something you all must know by now is that we’re often our own worst enemy. We can’t blame something on a lack of self-awareness. We’re all aware, which makes it that much harder when we see ourselves making the same mistakes. We often wonder why we do the things we do. But we already know why. Knowing and doing are two different things though. I know that x, y, and z make me unhappy but I guess, in the end, I just don’t care enough to make changes. You can’t force yourself to care. You need to reach a point where you DO care which can take a long time.

But once you do reach it, there’s no going back. Being a broken mess is a blast at 19 but once you’re old enough to know better and start to make those necessary changes, returning to that state will feel awful. That’s something to actually mourn. There’s a certain kind of beauty with being reckless with your body and mind. Closing the chapter on that and actively becoming the person you’re going to be feels great but it’s also a tad bittersweet. Sometimes you want to go back to being the person you were before all the bad stuff happened, but you know that’s impossible. So you just bid adieu to that time and look towards your future. (FYI, it looks super bright.)

(How To Become The Person You Want To Be by Ryan O'Connell)

Barely Even Friends Then Somebody Bends Unexpectedly

I was crying to my professor in Biological Science this afternoon because she wouldn't let me drop her subject. Minutes before, I was sitting in the front row while she was reprimanding me in front of the entire class. Take note, another section was there too; I guess she's supervising their 'researching' for their own class. Anyway, she warned me that if I miss another class again, she's going to give me an FA (failure due to absence), and then she asked me if I can promise her that I'll never miss a class again. I said no because I originally planned on missing class today too but my laboratory partner practically forced me to attend. It came to the point when I just asked her straight out if I should just drop her subject but she said, "it's up to you", so I walked out of her class.

I wish I had recorded her saying "it's up to you" when she refused to sign the dropping form. We were outside now so we had not much audience. She kept on telling me things like "You're smart, I know you're smart. You just have to attend my classes so you'd stop getting zeroes." I'm just there thinking, "I'm confused, who are you really trying to convince about my being smart, me or you? Bitch, is that really how you think you're convincing me to stay in your class?" I told her whatever reasons I could come up with "My grades are low... for me." "I'm sick." "I promise I'll attend all of your classes next year." "I was puking this morning. What, you don't know what I mean? How about barfing? Still no good? Um, I feel nauseous." "I don't want to just pass!!" I was getting frustrated, as you can see. I think it's somewhere there when the tears decided to make a show.

Back then, the play of emotions that swept through me amused me. I was all sad and crying, but then I'd give a mischievous smile here and there. I think the woman in the office watching my professor and I noticed. Maybe that's why she kept on disagreeing with my reasons too. Them bitches teamed up against me.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I think I cried out of desperation because I couldn't get what I want. It scares me a little sometimes how tears come easily for me. It comes handy as a last resort when I want to get things my way though. Feels like I'm channelling my inner Georgina Sparks. (BTW, I'm pretty sure one of my classmates thinks I'm psycho because I like to make puns with her name. Or maybe she's psycho? I mentioned that I noticed she always wears headband and it's the same one, and her hair seems like a Miley Cyrus song - Can't Be Tamed -, like hasn't she ever heard of a hair brush? It seemed like she literally just put the headband on and went to class. I only told one person about that, I think. But today I noticed she was wearing a different headband. Do you think she knows? But how?? So psycho, right? Right??) But then it made me realize that I want someone who'd call my BS no matter how insensitive it is. I want someone who'd be so rude I'd tell them to go die in a corner, step on a lego, or something. But, you know, I don't want it to just be anyone. I want us to have such a tight relationship that it's okay to say those things because it's the truth. I want a bullshit-free relationship. (Now accepting applications.)

As I was looking at my reflection in the mirror wiping my tears off, I waited for my 'friend' to say something. I thought, 'Hey, I was crying over there while you were waiting for me. Didn't you notice?' I mean like, why don't people ever ask me questions? It's just one of the questions I've always wanted to ask others (besides 'why do you know my name?' and 'why do you know where I live?'). One might say maybe it's just a matter of asking the right questions, but no, I swear people just really don't ask me questions. They should start asking me, or I might start feeling like they don't care about me at all. 'Yes, thank you for asking me that insightful question, I last took a wee this morning before leaving my house for school. It was yellow like the sun that greeted me outside. Next?' Or, maybe it's because they already know the answers so they're not asking me?? The other day, this girl started talking to me and answering the questions she was asking me. She got them all correct but I didn't have a certificate to give her. Anyway, the only thing I got to say was, "How do you know all these??" It was personal information. I'm pretty sure I didn't write those on my Facebook page. I haven't even posted a status update since 3rd year high school, I think. Also, like my sister, she's not my friend on Facebook so I don't know how she found out about those.

I'm starting to think my 'friend' has been telling others about me and all the shit I say. Yes, I'm still talking about the same 'friend' here. I mean, how would the stranger know where I live when she doesn't even?! Well, okay, that's a different thing but this 'friend' is practically the only person in my new school that falls closest to what is most people's definition of friend. (I have a different definition but I just call some people 'friends' to not make it so complicated for them. JSYK, my definition of a friend is non-existent. As in, they don't exist - true friends or real friends, at least but I've got hundreds of friends on Facebook.) So, considering that she's my 'only friend' in my new school and the only one I get to tell things to, it wouldn't surprise me if it was her preaching about the good news AKA me. It just disappoints me because she's not minion material. I mean, I can barely even communicate with her. She barely goes on Facebook, doesn't have load to text, lives near school but undependable, gives up easily, lazy person in general, etc. This is why I'd rather be alone.

The One Person You Never Really Get Over by Ryan O'Connell

There will always be that one person you’ll never really get over. I know, I know, Connie Chung delivering groundbreaking news over here, but it’s true. Sure, you can go days, weeks, months, years without thinking of them but the second you see their face or their name gets mentioned in passing, your stomach drops and you feel like you could puke. You’ve lost control and all of these feelings suddenly rise to the surface to say, “Sup? Have you missed us?’ You’ll hate yourself for this, for all of it. You won’t be able to recognize why this one person can still garner this type of reaction. Why is your mind punking you? It almost feels like a betrayal. You want to give your emotions a stern talking to and say, “Um, hi. I thought we were over this? So why am I getting super nervous and spazzy at the mere mention of their name? You promised me that we were over this, brain. THANKS A LOT.”

You’re not over this person because you still want to see them naked. If they wanted you at this moment, you would leave everything and come to them. It almost feels good knowing that you want someone so bad. You spend so much of your time feeling indecisive about things but this is the one thing that remains the same. It drives you insane but it also brings a certain level of comfort, doesn’t? “No matter what happens, I will always want to lie my naked body next to yours.”

You’re not over this person because they still have the ability to piss you off. A simple insensitive comment made in passing can affect you worse than an insult from your best friend. Why? Why? WHY? That’s all you ask yourself as you sit, licking your wounds. It’s important to not question this too much. It’s fruitless. It just is. Maybe one day they won’t piss you off. Maybe one day you’ll feel nothing. Hope for nothing, accept everything.

You’re not over this person because you can still remember the little details, like the way their sweat smelled (ew, make that memory go away), their favorite song at seventeen, or a day you held hands in the backseat of a car.  These memories still reduce you to mush all of these years later. Can you believe it? How can some lovers evaporate the day they leave you and others stay way past their welcome? Who gets to choose who gets left behind and who gets to stick? Not you.

You’re not over this person probably because they could never love you back the way you wanted them to, the way you needed them to. They were a defective toy that couldn’t be fixed at the shop. This made you so angry and so sad and you tried just so damn hard and everyone knew it but it didn’t work. Not one bit. Because of this, your business with them will always seem unfinished. You couldn’t conquer them and seal the deal, which made getting any kind of closure difficult. Your closure needs to be done on your own. You have to accept that this person will never give you the answers you want them to.

It sucks to have this one person in your life that can derail you at a moment’s notice. But in a way, it feels good knowing that you could ever love someone so much. Or that’s what you tell yourself anyway. It doesn’t matter if something is true or not. The things we tell ourselves can become our truth.

(The One Person You Never Really Get Over by Ryan O'Connell)

It's Always Just Gonna Be Him

There are just some people you never get over. The one who got away, your great love - which in reality is only so great because of how you did not end up together. The endless possiblities and what-ifs. The stolen glances and accidental brushes. The uncertainty of where you both stand. The teasing, pushing and pulling. The years that have passed by. The moment you come across each other again after a long time, the awkward greeting and polite conversation. The sceptical goodbye and lingering look. The difficulty to try and not look back only to catch him already looking back. The next time you come across each other and he's now more confident. The reminding of the past and re-learning of him again. His cockiness clashing with his dorkiness. The difference between the guy you know and the guy he is now but still being hung up on him. After all this time and never letting go. How pathetic it is and how pathetic you are.

Now That You're Gone by Elizabeth Berry

After you died I opened every window of the Advent calendar you insisted we savor day by day, just like your Nana taught you, and ate every single chocolate under each flap in one go. It was the best way I could think to tell you to screw yourself for leaving me here alone.

For leaving me alone with my mother and your mother and their crying and her creepy photos from when you still had red hair and these f-cking casseroles from all the neighbors who yelled at us for playing our music too loud and my boss who it’s still not that funny that he keeps hitting on me but we used to laugh it off because we needed the money and the friends who are equally as afraid to be around me as they are to leave me alone and everything else that is crappy and isn’t you.

With you gone, I never remember to record Jon Stewart so we can watch them all one Saturday. I forget to rinse the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher, so they always come out crusty and still dirty just like you said they would.

Now that you’re gone, people keep asking me what I’m going to do with your clothes and all your things — if I need help boxing them up. I keep telling them that I was thinking of putting them in display cases and turning the living room into a museum in your honor, but they always look creeped out and I feel sick because that was the kind of thing that would have made you laugh.

I should probably mention that I’m so sorry, but I broke your ugly debate trophy from high school that you were so proud of, I smashed it against the floor, so it probably wouldn’t look very good on display even if I was serious about that idea. I was just so mad — I was wearing the sweater I wore the night you told me that you were sure you had spent your entire life looking for me and I knew I was safe forever — I was so mad because I know now that wasn’t true.

I was so mad because now you’re gone and not here and all I have are your shirts which are losing the smell of you and your damn dog who still sleeps on our bed, and the ring I found in your drawer that you never got to give me.

All I can do it lay here and hold this damn ring and imagine all the things I want to say to you but can’t, and how they all boil down to: F-ck you, I miss you, and I love you — oh, how I love you.

(Now That You're Gone by Elizabeth Berry)