'Cause I Was Made For Chasing Dreams

It's been a while, I know. I almost want to start things off with a simple 'hello, old friend', before I dissect my life for the world to rip and tear apart.

Things have been... different since I last posted. I've stopped writing, completely. If you honestly asked me why, I couldn't give you an answer. To admit it alone is like I'm offering my beating heart on a silver platter to a hungry pack of wolves. I do my best to never directly confront my writing, afraid I'm going to see what I knew would happen all along; that it's not as strong as it once was, that I don't hold the ability to write like so many people thought I did. That I, Livi, would fail so many people on so many levels, and ultimately, fail myself all at once.

But with every storm comes a clear sky in the end, and my life hasn't been without it's high moments. I've been dating the love of my life for a solid four months, and the promise ring on my finger shows just that. He may not be the best person on a planet, with all his ducks in row, but he, like myself, is trying to find his place in the world. It's proving to be difficult, to say the least.

It's like... I can feel myself falling back into the hole I dropped into my junior year. I know the pit well; I dug myself into it. The walls are the same dark, damp, cold walls I stared at in the darkest moments of my life. They offer little comfort for me now, only the stinging reminder of what was once in here; the lost and crying girl who couldn't speak for herself and stand up on her own. The difference from this time and the last? I can't seem to claw my way out, no matter how many roots I grasp at frantically, no matter how many screams for help I let out.

Each day has proven to be a different struggle for me, it seems. Sure, I have my moments of happiness and joy, but I feel myself putting on a smile to keep everyone at arm's length than really meaning it. Lately I've been wondering where I'd be if I was where everyone else was; off at college, hitting parties, coming home for weekends, all of the typical post-high school stuff. I wonder day in and day out if I made the right choice in going against the grain and refusing college because I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.

Wait, backpedal here. Did I say I don't know what I want to do with my life?

Honestly, I don't know. I just don't know. So instead of sucking it up and picking an undeclared at a local college, I'm sitting here, moping up my tears with my sleeve, making a desperate attempt to keep that smile on my face so the world doesn't give me any unneeded attention. Someone else could use it much more than I could; someone always can use it more than me.

And I know I've talked about this all before, that I've gotten several people telling me that I shouldn't worry about not knowing what to do, that as long as I'm in college, I'm making an effort. You really think I want to make an effort when most colleges will cost me two thousand dollars or more a year? I'd rather save myself and my family from paying for such ridiculous costs by knowing in which direction I want to go before I do it.

I don't know, maybe I just enjoy chasing the dream more than owning it. It appears that with each new insight into the world of the Arts, I'm drawn into it. From graphic design to writing, sewing to painting, it all appeals to me, and I have a raw talent for it all. Talent that, with time, could be cultivated to make something of it. I just wonder if I'm going to love it as much as I do now if I spend so much time on it.

So, I'm continuing to claw at the pit, and I'm still screaming down here, hoping someone will here me. But it's only so long before I run out of a voice to use, and my body becomes too weak to keep fighting the never-ending fight I'm against.