Only four more days of 2014 await me, and I have to say this year was one of the most oddly comforting and emotionally-draining of all.
I have written more essays than I have for all of my English classes in the last five or so months, attempting to drag my underdeveloped and elusive “life’s story” out of my heart and thrust it onto Word documents. With my hair unbrushed, brain tired and wired, I spent a good deal of time this year wondering who I am and where I am going with my life. Just when one believes every path is clear: job, college choice, major choice, people choice, every choice seems to be a chore and the cleverly designed flow chart suddenly disconnects and flies in lost directions. My story is just like everyone else’s: school, primarily, and confusion, more of it spurred by self exploration that colleges so eagerly seek from applicants. The anxiety is everlasting, but perhaps the product of self-understanding will be attainable and wonderful.
2014 also brought on a slew of college classes, quickly blossomed and fizzled friendships as well as dreamily deep ones, broken hearts and mending hugs. But doesn’t growing up spark all this anyway? Stress seems like a daily occurrence, but so do smiles, and I have never felt more contently polarized.
I discovered the supreme joys of coffee this year on a revealing adventure to New York, and I drink it daily to remind myself that wherever I go, I will leave my heart in the city of dreams, swirling in the turbulent Starry Night and scanning the skyline from a position of power and appreciation.
2015 will be everything a girl could want: working & packing & learning & living & loving. In a few months I could be anywhere in America, hopefully with a mapped out yet flexible plan in mind for how I will use my time. In four months, Miss Musings will turn one, and will serve as a log of my cognitive and writing development over a special time in life.
I hope I have incurable wanderlust and a year of wonderment, but not wondering – instead, achieving happiness on my lifelong quest for contentment. 2015’s journey will be sunny with fireworks and Orlandonian magic, and I will walk with, under, and toward its light.