Everything happens for a reason
I’m 17 years old. I’m you’re straight out of the Midwest average high school senior. I go to football games, hang out with friends and watch the Cardinals play everyday while secretly hoping in the back of my mind that the Cubs never win another baseball game…ever. There’s not much that separates me from the crowd, nothing unique. I’m sarcastic but what seventeen-year old teenage boy isn’t? I’m nice, outgoing and intelligent.
Maybe too intelligent.
I’m not talking you’re standard 36 ACT score, has pie memorized to ungodly digits intelligent. I couldn’t tell you when the Civil War started or what the square root of 289 is (It happens to be seventeen by the way). No my intelligence is a tad different and it often lands me in hot water, situations where I’m conflicted. Not with other people, mind it, but within myself.
I have the increasing to tendency to analyze everything. Why something was made this way? Why something looks that why? Everything and anything. Conversations, people and relationships.
The enigma that is my life. I’ve only honestly been in one, well maybe two? It doesn’t really matter. It’s the baggage that comes with them. Everyone constantly asking me what’s going on. It’s not enough that in my own head I’m analyzing every move. Every thing I say, every body movement. The movements of her hands, the conversations she’s having. It’s not like I try to, it just happens. It’s who I am. I keep thinking that’ll get better. It never does. Especially since it’s over now I find myself thinking about every conversation we had, every move I made. Wondering. Could I have said this differently? Could I have done that differently? Friends frantically try to console me, yet to no avail. Why didn’t this work? It was supposed to be perfect. Beating myself up constantly within my own mind I finally got the chance to meet with my family last week and take the time to relieve some of this pressure.
My grandma starting talking to me; probably the only person besides my brother who really comprehends my thought process. As I was listening, I began to zone out, too upset to concentrate. As my mind wandered around the various objects in the kitchen perplexed as to why someone would make a lamp shaped as a fish I caught the all important line, the one thing that someone will tell me in life that I will never forget. My grandmother looked me straight in the eye and said, “Look kid, as bad as things may get in life, you have to remember that everything happens for a reason. That’s just the way it is.” Everything happens for a reason. This I believe.
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