I want to change. Yet I am resistant to change. I fight against it. I hate it. I am unhappy when it happens. Yet I am so tired of the same. I am tired of the ordinary. I am tired of me.
Or maybe I'm tired of the expectations of me. The big sister. The little sister. The babysitter. The coach. The Idea Machine. Maybe I'm just really tired of the responsibility.
How often do I plan these grand plans for my siblings in their friends? Devoting hours of planning to ensure they have fun? How many times did I plan huge events for the BSC? I was the president, after all. I was in charge of it all. I carried the business. If the business failed, then it was my doing. I came up with so many ways to make the BSC successful, who would have thought it would have ended, not because we were so young and inexperienced, but because our friendships fell apart? Maybe this is why the real reason I'm questioning myself.
Maybe not.
Once in high school, I no longer had the BSC, I continued being the responsible one. I studied hard. I made sure I got into honour classes, I was the youngest varsity softball player, I was the class president for two years in a row and I did what I could to get early admission to college. I continued to be responsible. I continued to do what everyone expected of me.
Now, with only a couple of months until graduation, I am doubting myself. Who I am. Why I do what I do. I'm tired of it all. The strict schedule. The homework, practice, babysitting. The fact there is no down time, no fun. I look at some of my peers, the ones who aren't as "smart," as "successful," who aren't considered to be "role models" and they are having fun. Do I look like I'm having fun? I suppose I do. People assume I'm happy. But I'm not.
I'm not happy. I want to have fun. I want to stop caring. I want to shock everyone. I want to go to a party and get drunk. I want to get high. I want to do things without worrying about the consequences. I want to do things without being responsible. I don't want to be responsible anymore.
Maybe I'm just deluding myself. Maybe I really like my life. After all, I wouldn't have done all this if I didn't want it. I like being in control, being smart, being the best. I need to be the best.
Maybe the reason why I'm lying awake is because I'm looking for justification. An explanation to what happened. Why I said yes. Why I went along with him. Why we kissed. Why it went beyond that.
He always provoked me. He always make my life more complicated, "more interesting."
Maybe the only way I can convince myself that what happened is okay is to convince myself I want to change.
Maybe.
Maybe. However, that doesn't explain why I'm going out again. Why I'm not telling anyone. Or what I want it to happen again.