Right now, I’m having one of those moments where I really feel like I have to get this written down and if I write it in my journal it will be all scribbly, because the fast I write the more my handwriting declines in quality. But, when I type, even when I’m typing at rapid rates, it still comes up looking just as legible. What an invention, the typewriter. Ha.
Anyway, the important statement I want to make: first of all, I should be doing a lot of other things right now. I have a short paper due tonight that I have not even started yet; I should be writing that. I need to take a shower and get ready to go to lunch with my friends in less than an hour. I need to spruce up my room a little before my parents come visit later on this afternoon (to keep them under the illusion that I am both a very clean and academically successful person, which in my case is kind of more of a give-and-take than a best-of-both-worlds situation). Most of all, I should REALLY be brushing my teeth because I woke up within the hour and I’m sitting here in nothing but my fluffy robe with my hair doing whatever the hell it wants and brushing my teeth seems like an urgent thing to take care of for some reason.
Which really does bring me to the point of this completely spur-of-the-moment post: I have a damn good life. Yes, I have problems, emotional hardships, car troubles, my eyebrows grow too fast, I miss my boyfriend, etc etc. But my life could be so much worse. I am upper middle class white girl going to a nice private school, who has a solid group of friends, a good GPA, an iPhone, and a really cool ceramic pig in my room (his name is Marshall). My parents are still together, and even though he’s a couple thousand miles away most of the time, I have a really great boyfriend.
To put it bluntly, my life is probably what most people would consider to be great. The only real and genuine problem I think I have is that because I have clinical depression/anxiety, my mind does not seem to see it that way. It goes around and picks out all the worse things and brings them to the surface, when all the great things, that greatly outnumber them, sink into the back. I could be very sick, or financially destitute, or not know my father, or have to sell my body to live, but I don’t have to do any of those things. And that, pardon my french, is fucking fantastic.
So yes, I’m not that skinny. I struggle with my body image a lot. But I am healthy. While my mind is a little strange sometimes, my body itself is healthy enough to do whatever I want, and I am extremely lucky for that. I intend to hike and run and climb all the stairs to my room and classes with great vigor from now on, because I can! I am blessed to be able to climb stairs and should enjoy climbing stairs while I can still do it!
So yes, I miss my boyfriend a lot. To give more background (although I’ll probably talk more about him soon in another post, we are best friends and it’s hard for me to describe how great he is here), he’s a US Marine and has been in the corps for a year now. It’s very difficult for both of us. I miss him almost all the time; having your very best friend who is also the guy you’re definitely in love with be so far away all the time is not an easy thing. But it’s not all bad. Our relationship has only gotten stronger this past year. We now know how to cope, and make each other feel better even when we cannot physically be there for the other person. We saw each other 27/365 days in 2013. It’s not a lot of days, but it will only get better from here. 2013 was boot camp, he didn’t have a lot of money or leave saved because yes, he’d just started up. It’s only going to get easier from here on out, because we can plan to see each other a little more often, and most importantly, we know how to cope. I love this guy like crazy, but our relationship is so much healthier because of the things we’ve learned apart: he has learned to be more attentive and willing to share, and I have grown a newfound sense of independence, both of which will help us in our relationship and for the rest of our lives. Many of the girls I met whose boyfriends got to Parris Island the same time my boyfriend did are now single, or more commonly, already with someone else entirely. Their relationships were just not compatible for the long distance. It’s a tricky situation, and the only reason Alex and I have not only made it but made the most of it is because we are best friends and we have been for years. A relationship started purely off of physical connection is not likely to last being apart more than 300 days of a year, because if you have nothing to talk about, it’s basically over. Do I miss sex? Yes. Can I live without it? Definitely, I’ve been doing it all year, and a lot of men and woman have to go a year or two years without seeing their special someone, so it’s completely possible. When we actually get to see each other and have some alone time, is it exceptionally great? Yes. Yes it is.
That’s that, I suppose. I am a very lucky woman in this world. I could have been born somewhere else, born with some disease or gene or awful parent that predisposed me for a much more difficult life. But I wasn’t. So, little rant about my boyfriend aside, this is what I am trying to say:
Is my life easy? No. Life isn’t easy for anyone. Even the richest white girl in the world has her own set of problems. Even Oprah has bad and confusing days. Life is hard. One of my favorite bands, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, sings a very good song about just that. Life is hard, that’s how it’s always been and that’s how it will be, that is what life is in its very nature: a rewarding struggle. So my life isn’t easy, but the point of all this is that my life is good.
The most important lesson I have learned so far is that life is hard, but nothing worth doing is easy.