Interestingly Enough...

So, interestingly enough, it'll run its course. There's not much you can do to stop it from running its course. I'm no wise old woman, but I know life well enough to tell you that problems need to happen. Bad things need to happen. I spent many of my teenage years trying to stop anything from going wrong; trying to stay in my comfort zone and protect myself from the world around me. But it just doesn't happen like that. It's like sitting in the rain but not expecting to get wet, like putting your head underwater and never wanting to come up for air. It just doesn't go that way.

And, you know what? That's quite a fantastic thing. No, bad things are not fantastic, but the fact that we must experience them, the fact that, eventually, we have to pull our heads out of the sand and face the storm, that's fantastic. Because, when the storm passes, we come out stronger. And, no, that's not just an empty quote that's thrown at you by friends and family for nothing. It means something. You will always, always come out stronger.

Alongside being fantastic, it is, of course, terrifying. Nobody really wants to accept that bad things are going to happen to them. I don't like accepting that either. I want to colour my future as something that will be bursting with vitality and glee, and nothing more. But, then again, I think about a life in which I am always, always happy. Always smiling, always care-free, and I think wow, what a fucking bore. Can you imagine that? Being perfectly, undoubtedly happy every single day of your life? How would you grow? How would you learn from your mistakes? What kind of unimaginable tedium would that be?

Picture this:

You're in a relationship with someone. They're a massive idiot: rude, inconsiderate, selfish, immature. But you never notice. The rose-tinted glasses are in full effect, and you're still happy. You stay with this person, letting them treat you like shit because, hey, you're happy enough to let him do and say whatever he wants because c'mon, he's not that bad.

Now, picture this:

You see every flaw for exactly what it is. You hate it when he disregards your successes and talks down to your friends. You internally cringe when he clicks at the waiter when they're in the middle of doing something, and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself throwing your coke over him in front of the entire restaurant. You leave him, it sucks, you cry, and you cry more, you consider getting back together, you try again, you fail again, you cry again. And, then, one day, months after you last spoke to him, you realise you don't need him anymore, and that you're actually okay. You've moved on, and now you know what you want. You're wiser. You're stronger.

So, let the bad thing come, and watch gleefully as the bad thing passes, and, instead of giving it the middle finger, give it a little wink, because it knows, and you know, that you grew. Actually, do both! Because fuck that bad thing, but, damn, thank heavens for that bad thing. Because where on Earth would you be now if it had never happened?