It's hard to believe, really. I can't seem to grasp the idea that four years ago, I was still in high school. Four years is such a long time...
When you think about it, four years can comprise a lifetime of meaningful events. People fall in love, they die, they get married, have children, get jobs, lose jobs, buy new cars, have more children, move into homes, go skydiving, fly in a plane for the first time, lose love, find love again, graduate...
For me, the past four years have been the most hectic of my life. I've been in the hospital twice; I have lost family members who mean the moon and stars to me; I loved a couple of times and had my heart broken; I have met people who I know that distance or time will not change the way I feel about them or the way they feel about me; I have lived above a garage, in a trailer, a townhouse, an apartment; I have gotten sunburns and scrapes and bruises, but no broken bones; I have discovered slam poetry; I have discovered my voice.
But still, I have not found the final me.
I am content with this. I am content knowing that I still have things to learn about myself and the world around me. I am happy knowing that the people who I learned from in school (both peers and professors) could not teach me everything there is to know about who I am and what I have to say and what effects I had, have, or will have on the world.
I am happy knowing that there is still more to be created and molded and added to the messy, haphazard pile of opinions and beliefs and neuroses and fears, loves, and hates that make up who I am. This person I have become, with all the influences I could have hoped for or prayed against, is who I am now. The who that I am now is the who that I am worried about.
Who I was yesterday is different than the me I am today. Yesterday I was me. Now I am me. Tomorrow I will be me.
Me me me me me, I I I I I.
Did you know that "I am" is the shortest complete sentence in the human language?
I am.
