28.9.14

i find myself a conundrum

i don't really understand myself sometimes. and leaning against the green wall in the hallway between my parents walk-in closet and their bedroom, I didn't think my dad would either. But I blabbed away anyway, regardless the conundrum of myself because "this is how I feel because this is how I am but I'm not really like that because that's not really how I feel but I guess I really do feel that way because that is how I feel because that's who I am."

Phew.

blank stare.

*sigh*

"you know what. I'll stop now, because I'm confusing even myself. . ."

xxx

The cool thing about parents though - especially dad, since we have this like telepathic form of  extraterrestrial communication (hey, extraterrestrial is a cool word, people!) - is that they seem to understand me better than I do. usually.
like.
normally.
especially when I make it very clear (in a really bejumbled way) of hi, my name is Bethany and this is what's going on in life. help.

the truth is, most people older than me have already lived older than me (well, duh, captain obvious) so they're like, "well, yeah - I understand! Been there, felt that, done that!" and I'm always simply shocked because I just assume everyone is ignorant and confused about myself just like I am.

so.
sometimes I think i'm weird and complicated.
(well, I am weird. sometimes. well. usually.)
but the reality is,
I think
I'm just
normal.

2 comments

  1. No, Bethany. You are incredibly, hopelessly ABNORMAL.

    Jk. And aren't talks with Dad the BEST? You literally just word vomit idiotic girl stuff, and he's like, "Oh, I know exactly what you mean and how to help you. BAM."

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes. I feel ya. Yes. Mhmm. Yup. Yeah. That sums up pretty much everyone. The only reason we are like "Oh yeah, that's surprising, because I thought I was the only one feeling this way" whilst others look at us and are like, "Yeah been there" is because we are just now encountering these thoughts and feelings, where as others have long surpassed them. Being a teen is so-teen.

    ReplyDelete

© Everyday Memoirs
Maira Gall