My soul yearns for things, indefinable things, abstract things, like love and happiness. Also, bigger things, like security and a faith in my future. I used to wish for them, until I realised all my wishes were absorbed by the universe as though they didn't matter; or maybe God just decided the time wasn't right for me. In any case, I've stopped the wishing; I've learned to wait.
"Patience is a virtue," it is said and I have been trying to be a more patient woman. I've always been a little impatient; sometimes I would jump straight to the back of the book because I so desperately wanted to know what would happen. Some would say that this ruins the story, but personally, I thought it made the whole thing a more worthwhile experience. Sometimes I wish I could jump to the ending of my story, just to find out how it all goes, to put my mind to rest. Will I get to where I always wanted? Will things work out? If I knew that, I would lead a quieter life. I like certainty.
Ah, I hear you say, "but certainty is boring! The beauty of life is not knowing what's around the next corner!" Well, to a certain extent, I agree with you. I want certainty of the bigger picture, in things like knowing if I will live a long and happy life, but I am not so concerned about the details. I would like the details to remain a mystery, so I may take each day as it comes, but the certainty that everything will work out fine in the end would be a nice thing to have, don't you think?
I used to be certain that I could turn to my mother and father for anything; when I wanted something, when I needed help, when I had to cry, even when I had something to laugh about. That certainty crumbled last year. Father kicked me out of the house, my mother let him, and then they got divorced. Mom came and collected me from my friend Mercedes' house, where I was living at the time, and the two of us moved back across town to my childhood house, the one with the tree house, where we live now. We hadn't sold the house when we moved, merely put it up for lease as an extra source of income and a lucky thing too, because the day came when we had a need for it. Father still lives in the other house because it's more convenient for where he works. Ours is rather far from school, but I do drive, so it is not too big an inconvenience for me. Besides, I enjoy driving.
I used to be certain that I would stay in Lima and be a real estate agent. That certainty too has crumbled. Our Glee Club trip to New York City changed a lot of things for me. It not only gave me a new confidence and zest for life, but it showed me that the world was bigger than Lima, Ohio, and that perhaps I should be dreaming bigger as a consequence. I'm no longer sure that real estate is the right career for me. I always saw myself in that job, but if I'm being honest with you, reader, I never imagined myself enjoying it; I only imagined enjoying the wealth which I thought would accompany it. In actual fact, I do believe I would be miserable in that job.
On that note, I'm not sure what I would prefer doing with my life. As much as I enjoy cheerleading, my quitting the squad has hurt any chances I might have had as a professional cheerleader. I don't think I would have liked that anyhow; there's only so much your body can handle before it begins to break down and athletes' bodies have a habit of disintegrating quickly if fitness is not maintained. Also, I love the singing and dancing of Glee Club, but I'm realistic enough to recognise that I have not the talented vocals of Rachel, Mercedes or Santana, and I certainly cannot dance half as well as Brittany. Music will forever be a part of my life, but most likely as a hobby, a past time, not a profession.
Perhaps I could turn my passion for reading into a career. Editing, perhaps? I'm not sure. I do know, however, that I am particularly fond of children and this past year, I spent a significant amount of time with the younger siblings of my ex-boyfriend, friend and fellow Glee member, Sam Evans, and I immensely enjoyed that time. So perhaps that is a clue as to what I should be pursuing. I do wonder if I would do well in a primary teaching position.
It is my understanding that the last year of high school is where you are supposed to make the choice which decides the rest of your life, but in actuality, this is far from the truth. The only thing you really choose is a college, and even that can change.
I've always known that senior year would be important in terms of choosing a place to go to college and I also know that my parents always assumed that I would go to Ohio State University. I'm not so sure. What I do know is that convincing 18 year olds that the decision they make on which college and which course they choose is going to affect their entire lives is ridiculous. It may affect part of their lives, because let's face it, dear reader, people don't stay in the same job their entire lives. To quote Taylor Swift, because I believe she so nicely sums it up: "People are people and sometimes we change our minds." Actually, 'sometimes' is an understatement; we change our minds quite frequently. College students switch courses all the time; I know my sister has done so, I know some of her friends have also done so. Sometimes the thing we choose isn't what we thought it would be and we decide to try something else. 18 year olds are still trying to work out themselves; it is utterly absurd to think that they would know for certain what they want to do with the rest of their lives.
"But I knew what I wanted to do when I was your age!" you may exclaim, and yes, while it's true that you may have, many people do not have any idea. Not all of us are the Rachel Berry's of this world, having a firm goal in mind that we determinedly pursue. If you knew what you wanted to do with the rest of your life when you were 18, then I applaud you, dear reader; congratulations! Unfortunately, I cannot say the same. I know I talk about 18 year olds as if I am already one, and your astute mind will remember that I am still 17, but I'll remind you, in case you've forgotten, that I will be 18 in September. It is currently July. I do believe that is close enough. Age doesn't mean anything anyway; it is all a matter of maturity, is it not?
Reader, I must confess something to you: I'm terrified. The idea of the future petrifies me. I look forward, past the end of school and there is nothing - a great void. I cannot imagine anything beyond the immediate future. Was it like that for you? Or could you see your whole life ahead of you, meticulously planned out, from your job to your house, even to your kids or pets? In a way, I envy you if you did; you have a confidence in knowing what you want.
I do know this: I want to be happy, I want to be successful enough to not have to worry about being short of money and I want someone I can go home to and be myself with after a long day of being someone else for the rest of the world. It's not too much to ask, is it, my friend?
You have brains in your head
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
In any direction you choose.
I still hear Nana Fabray reading that passage aloud to me as a child. It always struck me as empowering; I love the notion that you are in control of your own destiny, that you can go wheresoever you choose to go, whether it be through streets or alleyways, meadows or forests, or, if you take it slightly less literally, that you can be anything you want to be. The words replay themselves over and over in my mind, the voice of Nana Fabray still lingering on through the passage, more so recently because of the thought I've been giving about college and my future. They're like that piece of advice you are given which you then mull over continuously in your head until you finally come to a decision.
I have a feeling that however things may unfold over the next year, in the lead up to college and a career, that they will proceed exactly as is meant for me. I have faith that they will, just as I know that things will unfold how they were meant to for my classmates, my friends, my family, and even you, dear reader. We can merely hope that what happens is what we wanted to.
I hope Rachel Berry is able to break into musical theatre, and that one day our Glee Club will be able to watch her on a Broadway stage. I hope that Mercedes Jones is offered a recording contract and that one day, she too will be gracing some of the world's biggest entertainment venues. I hope Noah Puckerman, another fellow Glee member and my one time boyfriend, will stay out of jail, and that he can prove to everyone that he is better than the man they all think he is. I hope Santana Lopez finds the confidence to be herself, even if some of the world may disapprove. I hope Mr William Shuester will be able to live his dream, leading our school's Glee Club to a victory at the National level. I hope Finn Hudson will be able to accept that he cannot always be the strong leader he thinks everyone wants him to be and that he can recognise that he cannot be both a leader and selfish simultaneously, and thus grow into the best man he could possibly be, proving that he is not just another Lima Loser. And I hope that you too, reader, shall achieve whatever it is you yearn for the most.
For myself, I hope for happiness. Nothing extravagant. Happiness is all anybody ever needs. Most people have an idea of what shape happiness may take for them, but seeing as I've as yet not got a clue, then I shall simply hope for happiness, whichever form it may come in.
Personally, I see myself in a house in years from now, a home, greeted everyday by the excitement of my dog and the welcome kiss of my husband. In my mind, I own a golden retriever, a big dog, whose tail wags with enthusiasm every time I walk through the front door. My husband I am less clear about. There was a time when I was certain that he would be Finn Hudson, but ever since Rachel Berry entered the picture as serious competition against me in vying for Finn's attention, the image of him as husband wavered and disappeared. I can recognise that he is not the man I believed he was, and he certainly is not the man for me; Rachel Berry can keep him. For a short while, my husband was Noah Puckerman, especially after I realised I was carrying his child, which I know I have not yet discussed, but all things in good time, reader. However, Puck is, as much as he is desperate to prove himself better than the Lima Loser everyone expects him to be, still not right for me. I did love both of these boys, dear reader, but that is just the thing - they are boys. I need a man.
Puck is far more on the way to becoming one than Finn, but I believe that is due in large part to Lauren Zizes influence over him; she made him work for something he wanted for the first time in his life, something which heretofore, he had gotten without effort. The challenge changed him, altered his attitude, his mindset. He learned how to romance and woo, rather than swagger and reek arrogance. To his dismay, it meant that he lost his bad reputation among the students at McKinley, which he'd spent so much time cultivating, but as much as this frustrates him, I do not believe he would do anything to sabotage his relationship with Zizes; he cares far more for her than he cares about any other woman he has had. Thankfully, he is no longer afraid to show his softer side; had he revealed that side more often when we were together, I would never have let him go. But the past is the past and looking him now, he and Zizes are a far better match than he and I could ever be. I'm not afraid to admit that.
Conversely, Finn alternates between moments of incredible maturity and extreme stupidity. One moment he could be the sweetest boy on the planet, holding a picture of you when you were ugly and fat and saying that you were beautiful, the next he could be infuriatingly stupid; for a while he genuinely believed that he'd gotten me pregnant via hot tub. Do not ask me how I fell for that boy, dear reader, I cannot explain to you what thoughts flew through my mind.
No, actually, I can tell you exactly. He was popular, he was rather good looking, and he was interested in me. He was the first boy who ever asked me out on a date. Ecstatic and flattered, I agreed. Soon we were the school's "it" couple, the two people aspired to be; the head cheerleader and the captain of the football team. It wasn't all superficiality though, reader. I liked him because he was sweet, caring and kind hearted. I could be more myself with him than with anybody else, and his reaction to the revelation of my past life as Lucy Caboosey only cemented that ease. Not to mention the fireworks when we kissed; I do not exaggerate, my friend, I tingled when we touched. However, the circumstances under which he and I began dating again were less than perfect; I cheated on my then boyfriend with Finn and he encouraged me to do so. Guilt ate at me throughout the duration of our relationship afterwards, even though we had related the truth to everyone. I clung to Finn more because of the unfavourable reactions we were getting from everybody else.
And then there was Rachel Berry. She was another reason I was so reluctant to give Finn much freedom in our relationship. I knew Rachel, I knew she was in love with Finn. I knew she and he kissed even while he and I were dating, I know that she wanted him, I knew that like her Broadway dream, she would stop at nothing in her pursuit of him. And I lacked trust in my boyfriend. I knew of their history, I knew that he was truly torn between she and I, though he tried to hide it. I knew that with too much freedom, he could find himself in her embrace, and I would be left cold on the sidelines, alone, as if I never mattered - the way I was with my family. So yes, I admit, I liked Finn somewhat because I knew I could easily manipulate him, intimidate him and do what I had to do to keep him with me. It wasn't the only reason, and it certainly wasn't the driving reason, but was one in a myriad of reasons. But despite my best efforts, Finn left me and ran straight into Rachel's arms. I was left exactly where I did not want to be.
A part of myself hates Rachel for that, for taking Finn away from me twice. Another part admires her relentlessness. And all of me resents her for having what I desperately wanted; unconditional love from a boy and a dream for bigger things. Yes, I have mixed feelings for Rachel Berry; in the time that I spend not wanting to strangle the life out of her, I instead spend admiring her. She shall never know, of course; a girl like Rachel would follow you around like a love sick puppy should you give any indication that you actually cared about her; I watched that unfold with Finn. But I do care. I would kill for Rachel before I would kill for Finn, only because I can recognise that she is the only one who is definitely going to get out of Lima and live grandiose dreams; should we not help those who have a chance? Leaving is something every child who grew up in Lima longs for, but most never achieve.
Rachel believes I hate her. Several times we have had confrontations of an argumentative nature. One time I slapped her. I can't say that I don't know where she's coming from in her belief. The truth is, my emotions toward her are complicated, as I've already explained. I have never explicitly stated that I hate her, but nor have I led her to believe otherwise. I let her think that because I understand how difficult it is going to be when the time arrives and she must leave to pursue her dreams. Already I have seen her falter, trying to choose between love and career and I think that the closer the time creeps upon her to leave, the harder it is going to become, especially if she has knowledge that more people than just the ones she thought cared about her. I've always thought that if I pretended that I didn't care, then I would not impede her leaving. I doubt I'd be influence enough to change her mind about the matter, in any case.
There's just so much to say about Rachel Berry. But mostly, I wish I could explain to her how I think. Understanding is key. Also, I'd like to warn her that she's making a mistake with Finn. But I hardly think she will listen to me, let alone understand me. Still, I cannot help wishing that there was a way. Perhaps I'll find a way to do it before graduation. That gives me an entire year. Do you believe I can do it in a year, dear reader? I wonder if you have the faith in me that I lack in myself.
Author's note: so, a very light implication of Faberry and quite a bit on where Quinn thinks she'll be in the future. If anyone has any suggestions, questions, comments or criticisms, by all means, go ahead and let me know. Personally, I think I'm doing a decent job of exploring the mystery that is Quinn Fabray, but if anyone has anything to say, then I'm all ears.
Also, the Taylor Swift reference is from her song Breathe. Just in case you were wondering.