Unmade.

And I was so sure before.

I think my intentions have been fulfilled. I've dealt enough emotional pain. The resentment and anger and refusal still churns, but in truth, I'm so exhausted from trying. Out of twelve school days, I've eaten twelve meals. On the first week, I plateaued. On the second, I gained. I hated myself. I hated everything that was happening. This third week has been a cycle of rebelling my body, dehydrating myself to fatigue...to the point where the quantitative measurement of my appearance improved.

On those bad nights, I sat in my typical maniacal wakefulness, squirming, kneeling on my chair, face pressed to Youtube. I envy those bloggers so much. Everyone shares the values of family, success, comfort, and luxury, but my family seems to recognize these as the only values that exist. VidCon and P4A and vlogbrothers and Tyler Oakley expand the meaningfulness of their lives, our lives, by building incredibly vast relationships. They busy themselves into a social network of real people, real projects. When I watch Grace Helbig and Ryan Higa and even their "lesser counterparts"... Hannah Hart, Sean Fujiyoshi, David So, Troye Sivan... even the little people are invited to the massive celebrations of community.

Of the many things I dislike about high school, I most regret not learning how to be truly social. I wish I took Honors Print instead of Honors Written. I wish I had the guts to take media classes and that second year of AP Studio. I wish I understood the value of connections and friendship. I wish I didn't push people away. This sounds like those deathbed cries, when the disease-ridden patients groan that they regret not spending enough time with their loved ones and worrying too much about technicalities of life. Many people like being alone, but not feeling alone. I shouldn't have rejected so many people just because they don't share the same merits.

At the same time, it consoles me that for many people, the better part of their lives don't start until their adult years. Shane was that guy who puked during gym class and ate the asphalt. John Green was a hopeless romantic and a terrible student. And I, I hate the drone of physics lectures and the buzz of art history PowerPoints. I bask in knowledge, but I hate tests. I do well.. sometimes, but my favorite moments are always when I'm drawing out a sketchbook assignment and or planning posters or writing essays. I truly do not reject the idea of exams because of my performance, but because I would rather create.

I finally feel like my own person. Establishing a presence online has helped, but more than anything, the understanding of independence is striking. I think I'm almost ready to create and earn for myself. I think I can do it. I'm going to try. Failure is palpable, but a future of filling out someone else's project is so much worse. My mom wants so desperately for me to have a conventional, peaceful life. I'm so scared that my future is already twisted in this direction. I'm so scared that I passed up my only opportunity to be an architect at Cornell. I'm so scared that I'll regret this.

There isn't part of my life that I can sacrifice for true affection. I'm not ready to be sweet or cute. The games are better than the real thing. Our dry-mouthed obligations are unnecessary. None of the admiration, awkwardness, or bafflement is reciprocated. Be my partner, my friend, my noodle. Just don't romanticize it. I want to meet this Brown guy of Chelsea's.