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I can't believe it's the end of September already. I can't believe it's already that time of year already where the weather turns cold and the schoolwork gets intense. I'm writing a long paper and I have my first exam coming up. The fun going-out period is mostly over. I spent this weekend sick, cuddling up in blankets, watching movies with tthe roomies and catching up on homework. I'm only taking twelve credit hours and fearing for the spring semester when I have to take at least fifteen. I might not be ahead of myself all of the time, like I am now. Time is passing too quickly. I won't be this young forever. I only have six more months of being gloriously 19. I like 19. 19 is still young. 20 is scary and old. I won't know how to be twenty. I guess not much will change, as I'll still be in college. But in some ways, everything will change. I'll be in my twenties. Gah.

I haven't been worrying much lately. I've been pretty calm and well-behaved. I've just been lonely, really. I miss my parents and my friends from home. I miss being in a relationship. I miss my grandma and even my mom. I miss Lydia and Nathan. I miss the easiness of dorm life- but I don't miss it that much. Mostly it was just strange. My life feels pretty mundane right now- I'm sleepy and want to pass out. I want a boy to text me. But I'm back to being a good student and I'm back to the same rapport with my friends, and going out every now and then, and

Maturity might be no longer wanting to date just for the sake of dating. It might be seeing through intentions and feeling no anger about it. You only want to sleep with me? Whatever. Maybe I'll call you sometime, but I won't pretend that you could love me. Maturity is probably realizing that some people have been dealt better hands in life. Some are prettier, some smarter, some have better families. Maturity is hearing an argument without acquiescing yourself to it or opposing it without really listening. It's the ability to listen, disagree (sometimes privately, sometimes respectfully out loud) and move on. Maturity is respecting where you came from, even if you never return. It's knowing when to sleep and when to write. It's truly leading, not just pretending to have leadership experience. It's writing thematically, not chronologically. It's being optimistic about the future. It's always evolving, as you get older and learn more. It means hope, knowledge, opportunity. It's everything coming together and starting to make sense. It's what comes when you truly dare to dream.

It's too hot to sleep. I'm too anxious to sit still for long. It's taking all I have not to write "IcantwaitIcantwaitIcantwait" and all my varying feelings. I still want the things I always want- a boyfriend, a skinnier body, more money, less work. Universal wants. I'm always floating behind popular culture, never forging my own way. Maybe that's why I always feel like a walking contradiction. Maybe that's why I don't know what I want to do with my life. Maybe who you are is the things you can't hide, don't want to show off. Like my biting sarcasm and my feminist ideas. Things that I'm not necessarily proud of, but am intricately tied to. I'm trying to think of other characteristics like this, if this is what I really am. I have thirst for approval, (I think that's pretty universal) but that may explain my good grades. I just always want everything to pass a check by someone else. When I talk about myself, I always mold who I am to fit the approval of who I'm talking to. (Maybe everyone does this. Probably everyone with enough sense to).
"Its always times like these I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me"