I believe in pursuing an unreachable goal. To work so hard towards and try so hard to achieve something that might not even make a difference to the way I walk down the street seems simply pointless. Still I try, and still I fail. Over this past year, I have finally discovered the person that I want the society around me to see. I watch movies about teenage struggles and romance. I re-read Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being A Wallflower because it was the only book I ever connected with. I have been the bucket for tears and the microphone for fears of those I hold close to me. In all that I see, hear, touch, taste, and do… I learn. I take everything and make it my own. A friend tells me how bad of a relationship they’re in. They tell me all the things they wish that other would do that would make it seem borderline perfect, and I do it. I live my life like a movie. Where every scene bears excitement and wonder, and it all leads to my next failure.
Failure is something I’ve become very comfortable with. My belief in an unreachable goal is just of that, failure. I met a girl who is having a hard-time dealing, common for high school students this close to the end. I learned quickly about her previous heartache and briefly, her home life. I wanted to know more. Who doesn’t? So I would talk to her for hours every night, shunning hanging out with my friends and even sometimes homework. She is the type of girl who puts on a smile every morning to cover up the problems she goes through. However, every night, right before she goes to bed, through all my words, she tells me that I am the only person who can truly make her smile, that there is no one in the world that makes her feel the way that I do. It seemed like there was really nothing wrong, like I had the world at the doorstep. I was a king. Within days of my eighteenth birthday, she asks me why I care so much. I never have an answer for the things I do, just that I do them. So I reply, “I don’t know.” Moments later, my conquest was halted. I was the Titanic and she was the iceberg.
That is my unreachable goal. Love. I have been labeled by many as a “nice guy”, “a sweetheart”, “amazing”, but never good enough to be somebody’s somebody. I have pages of “it’s not you, it’s me.” That’s life. You win some; you lose more. You try and you fail. In time, you hope to god that one person will notice you, and that’s the end. Love and the pursuit of happiness exist. It’s just about blazing your own trail to achieve the seemingly unachievable.
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