I made one promise to myself before the start of this academic year. Just one.
In the months building up to September it looked like I'd be able to stick to it. Little did I know that the universe would thwart my attempt and impede my progress. I don't blame unseen forces, but stray moments of happenstance that drastically alter life paths make more appearances than I'd like. They're becoming as frequent as being shat on by a bird.
Not only did I break my promise but I entertained the idea that I would be ok with it. I make myself laugh sometimes. Until now I thought I'd grown out of my naiveté: The little girl who looked at the world with innocent wide-eyes, believing that dreams could come true, and that happy endings were not just myths of classic novels.
I need to grow up. Accept the muck that is our world, the darkness that is reality, the broken record that is my emotions, and the hole that is eating away at me.
I need this year to be a good one. It's my last one in this special place and I can't have it marred by stupid feelings.
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