Don’t Tear Me Apart, Please

We all belong to several worlds at once – the school circle, the childhood buddy world, the high school friends group, the world of our first love, the parent circle, the world of our Guru and the worlds of our independent passions are only some of the ones I’m a habitant of. Some work together, some intertwine, some are incompatible.

A few months ago, when I had allowed two of my most important worlds to collide, I thought I was making a decision for the better. No more lies, no more hesitations. But little did I know that this was only going to lead to more misunderstandings, more misinterpretations.

I’m a mature teenager; I’m not saying it in the unsteady haze of adolescence, where I stubbornly believe all my hasty decisions are right. It’s just I believe so because I have extremely high moral standards for myself, from no alcohol to no drugs to the no sex policy until I find the one. I’m not going to let them break any time soon. I know so.

So because that’s out of the question, shouldn’t the main goal be belonging in a place that makes me feel the happiest? I’m the happiest feeling like a princess in both my favorite worlds.

But what am I expected to do if the older, more important world detests my belonging in the younger, yet passionate world?

It’s a clash of thoughts because the older world doesn’t understand the younger world.

The older one claims my belonging in the younger one is only because of my wild age.

But no, it isn’t.

No, instead, it makes me feel alive, it makes me feel like a whole, it makes me happy.

To kick away the younger world, the one which makes me feel just right, to make things easier with the older world, is going to be hard.

So very hard.

But if that’s what it’s come down to, I guess I’m always going to live with that ‘What if?’

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