On Valentine's day I bought myself seven of my second favorite flowers, white Asian lily's. My first favorite are tulips, also white, in case you had some sort of plan. On Valentine's day I went to the gym and read my favorite Fitzgerald unfinished novel, The Last Tycoon, which I don't think it should be titled. On Valentine's day I tried to write fiction, but that never works out for me. As of late I've been selfish with my writing, keeping it in an obscure notebook which travels constantly with me as if it is sacred and wonderful. But February 14th is just another day, a day that I have always managed to spend alone but definitely not lonely.
My preference for solitude is not constant, I do enjoy the company of others if only to prevent myself from creating divergent personalities to keep each other entertained. My social options have become limited as of late. One year of life has prevented me from congregating with my elder friends at establishments serving alcohol and my conceited attitude prevents me from spending weekends fraternizing with the young men on campus. My parent's find it completely odd that I have been without a boy friend for several months and my co workers constantly berate me about my very non existent love life. If there is one part of my life that I don't mind being pushed aside, it's love.
There are much more complicated and important matters than my relationships, an attitude that has earned me the title of heartless, cold, and without emotion. While definitely accurate and by some measures harsh, I think it's a good thing. Besides, before I consider a husband, matching SUV's, children, and a house with fenced yard I have much to accomplish. Law school, medical school, real estate license, business school. No clue. Absolutely no clue. Today, it's real estate license and an MBA to follow, tomorrow is anyone's guess. I have only one more semester until I graduate at the ripe old age of twenty. I feel like I just played this game, which I actually did only two short years ago.
Perhaps it's time to draw an acceptance letter from a hat all over again. I'd probably be okay with that. I can already tell it will be difficult to move on so soon, especially when so many of my good friends have as many as three more years left of this college stuff. Packing up and leaving might be one of the most difficult and rewarding things I will ever get to do. Believe it or not, I am quite the optimist and despite all of my incessantly annoying year-by-year plans I'm much better at taking each day as it comes. There's something so much more exciting about living like that.
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