Hrmm, I was going to make this a heartfelt post, but I still can’t seem to do that. And so you’re getting another one of those blog post’s. You know the ones that don’t really seem important but in the back of your mind a little hobgoblin seems to agree with it.
Well today would be that day, this is my hobgoblin day, so don’t be alarmed. Recently I have begun to talk to a certain ex friend of mine… a certain ex boyfriend actually but that’s not to important – it’s just a buffer to explain the 3000 word facebook messages we send back and forth to each other. When responding to his message last night, I happened to read over a part that struck me as particularly interesting.
It was about his friend Tim who went on a Mormon Mission, He’s been in Paris for a year and a half and will be there for another year and a half. Ex-Boyfriend tried to convince him not to go because the two were very close, but in the end Tim made his choice. When talking about it at the time it just seemed that he really wanted to help people and would love any chance to do so, when in reality he didn’t want to be on his own.
High School was over and his parents were expecting him to move out into a dorm, or get a job and move into an apartment, both of those were not an option for Tim, and it’s been having me thinking. I’m just getting comfortable with High School, finally used to the time and the schedule, finally feeling like I’m the top dog – the alpha grade but by the end of the next school year my reign is over and it seems to all be ending way to fast.
Next year half of my friend’s are at college or university, the remaining half are torn between living at home and doing a fifth year, or getting a steady paying job and moving out on their own/with a group of friends. I know personally that one of my friend’s plans on moving to an apartment in Stratford, looking after herself, cleaning, working, making her own meals… I don’t think any of this would be a problem if her mother hadn’t held her back from learning important things like… How to use a STOVE!
I understand her mothers attempts at keeping her home longer, I know my parents would love it if I just went to work came home and looked after cleaning and dinner for the rest of the family, but that sounds more like a job within it’s self. I was taught how to use the stove, how to clean the house, how to do the basic needs to live on my own since a very young age. It wasn’t in preparation for anything – my parents just saw it as something I could do, and a time to bond.
Now, I know that a lot of people are afraid of growing up and moving on; it’s exciting but it’s terrifying at the same time. We don’t know what to expect and all we really want is a security net to fall back on.
There are people who are ready to burst out into the world, and do their own thing. But for me personally, well I’ll see you in the halls next year.