Forgive me. I’m just being unreasonably giddy.
August is my birth month, and although I was born on the last day of the month, I can’t help but feel lucky whenever I know the calendar page has been turned.
For some reason, August just seems like a lucky month for me.
I’m turning twenty this year.
and I’m dreading it.
I made a promise to myself a few months back that I’m going to do something worth it with my life. When I made the decision to stop school, I also decided that I wanted to make something out of myself.
Maybe it was jealousy, or just hidden admiration towards all those successful people that made a name for themselves as teenagers. They became famous bloggers, internet-sensations, celebrities at the age of fifteen or fourteen. Some start out with their passions as young as six or three. Being lost at eighteen didn’t do good for me.
I didn’t feel confident. I felt uncertain of how I was, and I became insecure of those people younger than me who was already so sure of themselves.
I wanted to be like them. Not in the sense that I wanted to be a celebrity, or an internet-sensation, but I wanted to be like them because they already know what they want at a young age and they already have it.
So I made a promise to myself that before I turn twenty, and lose all the bragging rights of calling myself a TEENager, I needed to be able to find my niche and excel there.
Believe me, I have tried. But after being let down and rejected in so many ways, for so many times, one would opt to just remain a hermit and stay indoors, while you cuddle up to your pillows and watch all your TV series on replay.
Falling in love with all these fictional characters are okay, they don’t judge you, unlike the real world.
But eventually, as relaxing as it is to be a bum and watch all of Klaus Mikaelson in all his glory, you get tired of sitting on your ass all day. You start to memorize your grandmother’s repetitive complaints about you being locked up inside your room, not seeing the sunlight, not bothering to exercise, and damaging your eyes with watching TV for almost 24 hours.
Niklaus Mikaelson doesn’t exist in real life.
Your friends do.
And they want to see you too.
As tempting as it is to just stay at home at do nothing all day, you HAVE promised yourself that you’re gonna make something out of yourself.
Where are you now?
With thirty days left until I’m turning into the big “Two-Oh,” I’m already panicking because as far as I can see, I’ve done absolutely nothing to fulfill that promise.
Why do I keep making these promises and disappointing myself?
The better question is, why am I in such a hurry to grow up?
All of my friends are much older than I am and they are also struggling their ways through life. We are all lost, that is absolutely normal. Some people may have found themselves earlier, but it doesn’t mean it’s too late for me. It’s not too late for anyone.
Nineteen is still too young. Twenty is still too young. Hell, Thirty-five is still too young!
A lot of people are still finding their ways so why should I be in such a hurry?
For now, I’m just gonna stop sitting on my ass all day and start doing something. I’m on my internship, technically that’s a different form of sitting on my ass all day, but at least I get something done. I’m not idle anymore, and everyday for me has a purpose other than staring at Joseph Morgan’s adorable lisps.
I’m taking it one day at a time.
I’m still scared, but twenty is just the beginning.