sitting here. lump in my throat. crick in my neck. and a thought that won’t leave. let alone, won’t quite quit me. let alone, i don’t know what it is. but it keeps me awake. every night. i don’t sleep. you kidding?

and there is pond in the back where we catch our salmon. in fact, it’s about time they were fed.

and there is this pressure from everyone. it tells me to succeed. it says, please alyssa, go to school. do your best. i’ll love you, once you complete this important task. what are you when everything is taken, and you are degreeless? what are you now? 22. no life here for you. it’s been years. your friends are already done, and you aren’t. worthless.

i can tell by your eyes that you weren’t meant for a resturant. i can tell by your mind that you want to go somewhere. that you could. but you gotta go to school first. you know, for the experience. so young, but so old. don’t throw this life away. you only got one.

and how much longer must i listen, before it goes away? should i start lying? i could tell you i have my bachelors, and i’m hoping to get into stanford for law. or i could tell the truth. but the truth doesn’t cut it. it doesn’t cut it with family. doesn’t cut it with friends. and let me tell you even strangers think it sucks. but it’s my answer, and it will remain that way til i change my mind.

“i don’t wanna.”
“no one WANTS to.”
“i really don’t wanna.”
“alot of people really don’t want to.”
“yeah, but i’m not them.”
“i’ll give you some free advice.”
“sure.”
“go to school, work through it. you won’t regret it.”
“i will.”
“i promise you that you won’t.”
“you don’t even know me.”
“i know your type.”
“i’m not a type.”
“do you want to work in a resturant forever?”
“no.”
“see.”
“i’m not going to be working in a resturant forever.”
“well you’re gonna have to, if you don’t go to school.”
“no i won’t”
“how do you know?”
“because i don’t wanna.”
“what do you WANT to do.”
“whatever i want to do at the time that i want to do it in.”
“which is?”
“right now? write.”
“do you write?”
“everyday.”
“why don’t you go to school to write? gain some experience.”
“because i don’t wanna.”
“i’m just telling you.”
“you’re not the first.”
“it’s my advice, you don’t have to take it.”
“thank you, i won’t.”

and so it goes. ask me how many times this exact conversation has taken place. i will tell you at least 3 times a week since i graduated highschool and then dropped out of community college. because let me tell you, my non-want for school has not left since before i decided to enroll the first time.

that last sentence made sense i am sure.

no sir, we don’t have french dressing, it’s an italian resturant. i know i think it’s stupid too.

my life would be easier if i knew how to catch a man and marry him. that way people would stop questioning my descisions in life. they’d say, “oh, well she’s married.” wouldn’t that be grand? except i can’t get a man to save my life, and i don’t believe in love. and i don’t ever want to get married, because thats forever.

so i am alone. i work in a resturant. i’m 22, but pretty soon i will 45 and nowhere. or at least thats what is said. maybe it’s true. maybe it’s not. maybe just maybe, i am the girl that will change your ideas. on life. on love. on my own. without your free advice.

maybe you will learn to love me. because i’m different. because i have a story. because i don’t want to do anything that i don’t want to do. and you can trust that everything i am doing, is something i honestly want to be doing.

do we have cold drinks? if i put ice in it, it will be cold.

i don’t mind waiting tables. i like it. it takes my mind of things. i don’t mind bartending. i like it. it’s creative. i don’t mind sleeping in my parents basement. i don’t mind, because its not my definition, it’s my circumstance.

and this lump in my throat is because i am sad that i couldn’t love him. and the crick in my neck is because of nothing i could control. and the thought in my head, is just that, a thought. that one day, i will be where i am supposed to be.

and i will get there however the hell i want to.