Souls & Purses

Just your untypical youth, in so many words. Content unrestricted.

I fucking refuse to be another one of your clichés

I usually try to begin my year with a certain level of optimism and while i’ve exhausted my patience and any hope i have ever had of keeping up with resolutions, at the very least, i tend to have a murky idea of the things i want to achieve over the next 300 days or so. But this time…idk. It’s different. Perhaps it’s because after coming back from my last trip my post-vacation blues has taken itself to a whole different level. Whatever it is, everywhere i turn it feels like i’m faced with a crossroads in which i haven’t the shittiest idea in the slightest as which direction i should head.

During this trip my boyfriend has been pressuring me to get engaged and while i don’t know if “pressuring” is the right choice of word, i do know that it’s not something i’ve prepared myself to expect for this year. The past few years friends and family have been asking when we’re going to get engaged or married or whatever and up til now, i’ve always managed to confidently breeze through the whole ordeal with the answer that we’re waiting for me to graduate. But for some crazy reason, without me realizing, my final year has come and is literally halfway gone and i don’t know how the hell i ended up with less than six months left to my undergraduate life.

It’s not that i don’t want to marry D, it’s just… is it so damn insane for me to not want to take the path most trodden?! Is it so crazy that i don’t want to be everyone’s cliche and graduate and get engaged then get a job then get married then have kids? IS IT SO OUT OF THIS WORLD THAT PERHAPS I WANT TO DO THINGS MY WAY?!

Plus, I would hate to launch such a drastic aspect of my life based on the expectations of other people. Now they’re pressuring me to get engaged, next they’re asking me to  get married, then comes the idea that we need to have kids, then after i have a kid, next they’re going to ask me when i’m going to have my next son/daughter to make a pair then what? What next? When does it fucking stop?

So many people i know have gone and gotten married and while i’m already 23 and we’re obviously more than eligible to do what we want, i can’t help but think that every time one of them gets married, it’s like a light has extinguished that automatically eliminates them from so imaginary race. Like a part of me immediately thinks “oh whoops guess she’s out of the running, whatever you do doesn’t matter anymore because you’re someone’s wife now and you’re supposed to have your shit together”. LIKE SOME PART OF ME BELIEVES THAT GETTING MARRIED EQUALS FOREGOING EVERY SINGLE THING YOU’VE DREAMT OF BECAUSE A SPOUSE AND KIDS DOUBLES THE DIFFICULTY OF EVERYTHING. I DON’T WANT TO BE OUT OF THE RUNNING. I WANT TO STILL BE AN ELIGIBLE PARTICIPANT FOR THE RACE DAMMIT.

I’m not saying i never want to get married. I do. And i want to do it with D. That’s for sure. Dem, if you ever read this, please don’t get tired of waiting and eventually leave me. I’m not taking you forgranted. I love you and you are my future, that much is clear to me.

BUT I FUCKING REFUSE TO BE ANYONE’S CLICHE

“I’m so crazy stupid happy”

Tonight is just one of those nights where i feel like the luckiest girl alive. Ironically, it wasn’t by some romantic gesture that my boyfriend had devised leaving me giddy and stupid with happiness. It actually began with him arriving in front of the coffee shop i was in with furious relief etched all over his face. And to be honest, the entire scene could have blown up in something ugly as i defensively accosted him at the entrance while he wagged his finger at me with ill-concealed anger.

“Don’t do this right now,” i warn him through gritted teeth, not knowing what his problem was but sensing intuitively that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be solved (in fact, i wouldn’t let it be solved) until he had calmed down.

But i’m getting ahead of myself.

So all that happened was basically, my phone battery went flat, i thought i’d told him that i’d arrived safely at the coffee place where i was meeting my friends (key point: apparently, i didn’t), there was a thunderstorm at his place, he thought there was a thunderstorm as well wherever i was and after two hours of being m.i.a., he assumed that i’d gotten caught in the storm and imagined that i was lying in a ditch somewhere so he went to look for me in every branch of the coffee place i was in before finding me in the third one.

The thing about us as a couple is that, we’re not the type to keep tabs on one another. We’re not the type to be jealous whenever the other is out with other people; we respect each other’s space whenever we know the other is busy; we understand each other’s need to socialize with other people instead of just being together around the clock. Basically, we don’t have trust issues. We do what we want, when we need to and however we want to.

On the unspoken condition that we keep each other updated on our respective locations. Just a casual “i’ve just reached so-and-so with so-and-so” or “leaving the house now, will text you when i get there” and “going home now, text you as soon as”. Purely for safety concerns because i think we share the common fear of anything  bad happening to each other and not knowing how and where to reach them. Just knowing that i’ve made it from A to B is good enough for him (most of the time) and honestly, while i am equally the worrier, i’m perfectly fine with just a check in from time to time, letting me know wherever he is. So if ever he doesn’t get back to me in three hours, i know where to go first. Like i said, we don’t do it out of insecurity because we expect to catch each other unawares in the act of infidelity *knocks on wood* or to keep us on our toes at all times as a deterrent or any juvenile shit like that.

We do it just out of concern for each other’s safety.

Which apparently, i failed to do so tonight. So he came after me because the last thing i told him was that i would be at the coffee place after driving from another dinner with a different group of friends. But because he never got an update that i’d arrived and my phone had died, he imagined the worst and went scouring the deserted, stormy highways in a frantic search. I suppose it was understandable but all the same, i was embarrassed when he showed up crazy-eyed with relief. Lol. So we had a tiny spat and i grudgingly pulled him over to my table where my friends were waiting with abated breath, waiting to see if we’d have our lovers’ quarrel in full view of everyone.

But we never fight for long anyway. So we sheepishly nudged each other and bickered openly for a bit while rolling our eyes after which all my friends took his side and gushed about how lucky i was and how sweet D was. Honestly, i was still really embarrassed because i could see his eyes shiny with relief and fear after what he described as a harrowing two hours of waiting for an answer and searching the streets. And that made me want to cry as well because i felt bad for making him worry so much. But ever the stubborn ass, i carried on with my nudges and teasing taunts and eyerolls which he reciprocated half-heartedly.

He stayed with us until the shop closed and we all had our departing cigarettes for another hour in the parking lot, discussing our December trip to Jakarta which he engaged in with cool enthusiasm, offering shortcuts and suggestions. The whole time, i felt a crazy swelling in my heart, so filled with love i could barely contain it.

“What did i do to get so lucky to have you as mine?…

And more importantly, what crime did you commit to have me as yours?”

I love him. I love him. I love him.

And let it be known, for every time i modestly roll my eyes at any mention from my friends of how lucky i am and how sweet we are as a couple, my heart beats a little faster with secret agreement because honey, i know. I knew i struck gold the night i drunkenly fell into his arms on our second date and he instinctively fed me watermelon to my dry-mouthed delight before hoisting me into the car and carefully driving me home at four in the morning. During his own birthday party.

Now that’s love.

 

My train of thought 99% of the time

Some days i feel like i’m doing too much. Some days i feel like i’m doing too little.

Then there are others when i feel like life is passing by too quickly and before i know it i’ll be 27 or 30 but then it’s never long again before i find myself solemnly pondering, wondering if a darker fug is awaiting me after i complete what’s left of this excursion that is my undergraduate education. So dark and muggy and miserably depressing that it’ll leave me clinging on drearily by my fingernails for dear life.

Other days it seems that my entire life revolves around dreading what my future holds for me which is really tiresome and makes me feel like running away. Sometimes i can’t help but notice that my daily routine with my boyfriend consists of reminding ourselves and talking about what we see in other people’s lives that we don’t want in ours. Always about taking other people’s mistakes and turning it into our lessons. I believe that this is my paranoid self’s fault and is a result of me pulling him down with me and has much to do with my mentality being “if you’re really here to stay for the ride, you might as well buckle up tight because it’s one hell of journey”.

I just feel so tired. So wearisome of the rest of my life that hasn’t even taken place yet.

There’s more for me out there, so many things to do, so many goals i haven’t achieved, so many chances at opportunities and lifestyles that were never in my reach and sadly will never will be, it’s like my whole teenage life has been about me wishing my youth away and yet the years have come and gone, they’re literally flying through my fingers as i helplessly grasp at sand blowing in the wind and it’s like, what the fuck, i’m now 23.

I will literally never be Kylie Jenner in any way possible.

It’s like i’m too old to do anything significant anymore. There. I said it. I don’t mean to be an obnoxious bitch by saying so but it’s just the way i feel. It oddly doesn’t apply to anyone else, it doesn’t apply to my boyfriend who’s nearing 30, it doesn’t apply to whoever. Just the one. Just me.

It’s like the opposite of “exceeding expectations”, whatever it is. My expectations. No one else’s, just mine. I’ve always been a huge advocate of the anti-complacency campaign. People often mistake for me being ungrateful and shit but they’re just peasants.

PREACH

I am grateful in ways that only i can see and to me that’s all that matters.

Time is moving so fast and i understand that but it flummoxes me when i think about my progress and what i’ve been doing about it. My train of thought is literally always like, “oh man i’m 23 now i’m graduating next year, i should open a business or start investing or get a foothold on the real estate ladder, oh wait shit, i haven’t even saved shit yet. Okay. Cool i only have 6 months to get the money cause i want to hit the ground running i want to graduate with money already in my pocket. OKAY I CAN’T HANDLE THIS I THINK I SHOULD JUST CONTINUE ON WITH MY MASTERS SO I CAN DELAY ADULTING FOR NOW K COOL THAT’S A PLAN”.

And my boyfriend is just there wilting on the side like a limp weed, “um can we just get married a.s.a.p. and can you bear my babies already? I need you to tear open your vagina for my offspring and ruin your life”.

Like, fuck you. Fuck everyone. Fuck life.

It’s like i don’t have enough time in the world to plan for this.

Yet it’s also like i have too much time on my hands and i’m doing nothing with it.

And yet i just strangely feel really busy all the time.

Okay.

That’s how i feel for tonight. Hopefully not tomorrow as well.

xx

Just me against myself

Lately, i find that that i’ve been asking myself one question over and over again. “When was the last time i did something that i didn’t want to?”

Even writing that now makes my blood temperature go up a few degrees. That’s how much i abhor the idea. And yet, there’s also no hiding from the fact that some discipline is necessary, even in the smallest doses. Although i still cannot stomach that i’m actually endorsing that idea, let alone considering implementing it in my day to day routine.

When i ask myself the question, i don’t necessarily mean it in a “i need to go rock climbing a.s.a.p. eventhough i have terrible upper body strength and hate being outdoors” kind of way. What i mean is, when was the last time i actually followed the rules that i set for myself?

Like, when was the last time i disciplined myself in any way instead of immediately caving in and giving in to all my heartfelt desires without a second thought? When was the last time i denied myself something?

I know people say “the heart wants what it wants” (or was that just Selena Gomez idk) but at the same time, is listening to your heart all the time all that it’s cracked up to be?

When was the last time i told myself a firm, resounding “no” when one of my so-called “insatiable” cravings came up? That just because there were moments when i felt like i would die if i didn’t have a “matcha latte with milk foam and extra boba” in my hands within the next 24 hours, that i wouldn’t actually die if i didn’t have it? That just because i didn’t get enough sleep the night before doesn’t make it alright to miss class at 10 a.m. just because my sleep-deprived body feels like it’s physically attached to my bed? Because God forbid i actually have adult responsibilities that i have to fulfill and duties that i can’t just abandon at a moment’s notice.

I was thinking of it because i haven’t been doing very well this semester (despite my initial optimism). A lot of people and classmates who also just got back from the year abroad pin it down to being part of the transition of settling back in to normal life after experiencing a different lifestyle and i agree with that. Because every week i tell myself “next week is going to be the week that i attend all my classes and i’m going to be punctual while i’m at it” and yet the week goes by and still i keep on missing classes and still i keep on telling myself that next week is going to be better. Except when i got back from Jakarta two weeks ago deciding to go into crunch mode which meant catching up on lectures and assignments etc., i texted a classmate asking her what i’d miss in the past few weeks of classes– just f.y.i. i’d only gone into this particular module about three or four times throughout the semester… only to have her reply me and tell me that lectures had already ended for good two weeks ago. I mean, sure, it was only a light breadth module from an opposite faculty but i was still shocked nonetheless.

Same thing happened with another class that i’d missed last week, only to have the lecturer inform us via email that this week would be the last lecture before exams. WHAAAAT. Don’t even bring in the “E” word. I’m literally still trying to psyche myself into attending classes and you’re telling me that they’re already coming to an end?!

Another reason why i’m finally coming to terms that i need to set up some proper rules for myself to actually abide to is noticing how much time i waste in a day. Telling myself i’m going to hit the sheets early and then spending another six hours on my laptop, just streaming one episode after another (you know how it is with these binge marathons) and suddenly seeing the sun peek at me from between my curtains meaning that either a) I’m going to go to sleep at 6 a.m. and wake up at 4 p.m. or b) i’m going to force myself to wake up at 11 a.m. and spend the rest of the day pissed and unable to find the motivation to do anything and eventually giving in to a nice lengthy nap in bed which will also end up taking a good part of my day. But since i rarely even have the discipline to wake up early in the first place, it would most likely end up being the former option.

For example, earlier today i was supposed to hit the park with my best friend to do something that i’ve needed to do for the past two weeks but haven’t gotten around to (procrastination-ception, anyone?). My initial plan was to meet her at noon., maybe grab a late lunch and then go to the park. But in typical expectations versus reality fashion, what happened was i woke up at noon, i ate some breakfast, watched some cartoons, took a shower and realized that i was sleepy again by 3 so i took a nap and woke up at 4.30, dropped by my boyfriend’s office and then eventually reached her place at 7. SEVEN. That’s four hours later than i had planned. And i’m ashamed to say that this isn’t the first time.

I used to pride myself on being able to do whatever i want, being extravagant wherever possible, high on life and its pleasures. I usually sneer inwardly (unpopular opinion alert) at punctual people and smugly wonder to myself how many years of their life have gone to waste just waiting on other people. But right now i’m looking back on my life and it’s slowly coming to me that perhaps i’m no better. How much time gets wasted in a day; how much potential productivity has gone to waste just from me being a lazy, self-indulgent git? Most importantly, how much weight have i put on from never being able to or wanting to tell myself no and never ever making myself wait for anything?

And most simply put, when was the last time i forced myself to wake up early?

I don’t even know.

I’m not saying that i’m going to turn into a puritan or anything like that. I’m still going to take my kicks where i can get them but at the same time, i just need for there to be some barriers. I finally believe that too much of a good thing can be a bad thing. An unelightened Sheyenne would never have admitted that. So that’s a start.

With that out there, i’m going to head to sleep and try again for a better (more disciplined) day tomorrow. That’s all for tonight!

xx

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