If you are like me, then I’m sure you will understand what I am about to write.
Sometimes I walk around and feel like I am bigger than the world. I feel connected and a large part of society, even humanity.
Other times I walk around and feel so small and inconsequential.
Why does this happen?
There are many questions that I have for the universe, but we’ll just start with this one.
I have been absent from my writing mostly because of being a scaredy cat. I have a pretty big interview coming up this week and to say that I am nervous is quite an understatement. It is in times like this one that I crawl back into my shell, bottle up my feelings, and don’t let anyone else inside.
Partly I attribute this to my tiredness. It is wearisome working the way that I do, even if that way is privileged beyond measure. The days are very long. The pile of homework seems to multiply despite what seems like countless hours spent hunched over textbooks at the library, my various odd jobs are taxing both physically and psychologically, and sometimes I feel a bit lonely.
Just the other day I was at Starbucks, cozied away in a corner finishing a book, when a couple sat down not too far from me. They had their respected cups of coffee and were sharing a pastry. Sentimentally, I glanced over the top of the pages and wished that one day, one special, magical day that could be me. The romantic inside of me hopes, wishes, and prays that today will finally be the day for something fairy tale like to happen. I will not be jaded by any experience of my past. Still, I have my doubts about love and romance, wondering if I am worthy of either. I yearn for that daring stranger to buy me a cup of coffee or at least ask if they might. Those things do happen in real life, right?
It is funny to think that I have so much, but there is something missing. I can feel it.