I've always believed that it's extremely necessary to let your emotions out. Sometimes that means crying, laughing, yelling, or just good old fashioned bitching. For most people, they have a best friend, parent, boyfriend, etc. that can be the other end of their crying/bitching/yelling/laughing. For me, I have the internet. Granted, I have a boyfriend, but I'm about to kind of bitch about him. I also have a best friend, though she would probably just tell me to stop whining and enjoy what I have.
Let me start with this: I love my life. Everything is going really well! There isn't anything majorly wrong with it at all, so don't think that I don't appreciate what I have.
That being said, sometimes I am jealous of my boyfriends past. He used to be a big drinker/pot smoker/man-whore back in his early twenties. He would smoke, drink, and talk about the meaning of life with friends. He also spent hours upon hours meditating. He has bi-polar depression and no doubt getting to take a load off in what ever way was available was probably really good for him emotionally.
Now, I'm not saying that I want to be a pot-smoking slutty drinker. Not at all. But I would love to be able to have a night where I could get way too drunk, enjoy thinking philosophically with friends and just generally having no worries.
I think what it comes down to is stories. I have never had any good stories. When my kids ask me what I was like when I was their age, I will undoubtedly answer either "boring"or "I don't remember".
This isn't the case for my boyfriend. He would have stories upon stories of playing paintball, discovering amazing music, DJing at various high schools, smoking, drinking, partying with close friends, a few ghost encounters; the list goes on.
What it all comes down to is stories. What is the point of life if not to make something remarkable out of it?
The only stories that I have that are even mildly interesting (adventures or otherwise life changing) are all incredibly sad.
For just one day can I live my story?
Nothing would be worse than having my epitaph read "The girl who probably did some stuff... maybe".
