Memories

“Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.” - Barbra Kingsolver

I think that it's human nature to do this; to make up the past to be something either so magnificent, or so terrible. It's what makes middle-aged men reminisce about their "golden years", and what makes middle-aged mothers turn into stage moms. You want your life to seem more meaningful than it actually was. I know I do it, with pretty much every memory I have.

I have made my 10th grade year seem like this untouchable, truely wonderful thing in my mind. I've made myself believe that everything was so dramatic, and crazy-- that my life was Degrassi, or Gossip Girl. There is a reason those are fictional TV shows, because things (at least, in my life) aren't that exciting. I had boy problems. Big whoop. I had numerous "new life experiences" as Brenna likes to call them. It's called growing up. It's called being a teenager. It's not this ridiculous, highlight of my life.

I am going to do things one day that truely are great; that truely are magnificent. Things that aren't overexaggerations in my mind, but things of actual importance. Helping people, marrying someone I love. Helping the poor, and the sick, and the destitute. These things that have happened in my highschool years won't be "golden", they will be practice for what's yet to come.