I’m twenty-two. I’m starting over.
I don’t know anyone else doing that. I don’t like being atypical.
I don’t like doing wrong. That is why I’m cautious. That is why I’m calculating.
The fear of failure ruins me.
I am crippled by this. Therefore I build a fortress; place myself on a pedestal in the center, look down and pray I’ll survive the fall. I feel too big to fail. My calculations are too perfect for error. Yet, here I am in a free-fall trying to rebuild.
What’s flying at me is overwhelming; success in school, finding work, a budding relationship, stagnant friendships. Each of these scenarios require attention and I’m trying to find the balance. I thought I could have it all. At this time in my life, I thought I would already have it all: thriving career, dedicated significant other, exciting social life.
I don’t think I’m being irrational to want those things by my age. Alas, here I am at the beginning like I was at 17. My goals never changed. Just that my priorities never put me on the path to accomplish them.
The fortress walls have been breached.
I have been dethroned.