I never understand why some people have to say, “Don’t be picky. You’ll end up alone.” I’d rather be alone than be with someone who looks like your boyfriend. Sorry.

But honestly, when did having standards become a bad thing?

If you’re with someone who treats you like shit, please don’t ever tell me what to do. I’m happy right now with or without a boyfriend. And if one day I decide to have one, he better actually be good for me. Not just someone I picked because I felt insecure.

I never really mind when people stay in relationships they know damn well are bad for them. It’s their life. Do whatever you want.

But when it comes to my fucking life? You better shut the fuck up.

I never tell you what to do with your life. Why do you think you can tell me what to do with mine? Just because you’re older? Just because you have kids?

I was walking home today, thinking about all of this. And then my brain did what it always does, and suddenly I was thinking, “I could die today if I had to.” Not because I want to.

Just because I think about death sometimes.

Then I immediately thought, “Is this depression? But I’m actually very happy. Or am I bipolar?” Maybe I’m crazy. Or maybe deep down I am depressed. At the same time, I feel the exact opposite of depressed.

At least I’m aware enough to question it. I guess that’s something. If I’m going to overthink anyway, I might as well be conscious of it. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just yapping.

Maybe that’s why that comment pissed me off so much, even though it wasn’t even directed at me.

Because really?

Out of everything happening in the world, this is what we’re worried about?

“Don’t be picky. You’ll end up alone.”

That’s your contribution to society?

Life is beautiful and depressing at the same time. I know that sounds contradictory, but I think both things can be true. Life is magical. Life is unfair. Life is exciting. Life is heartbreaking.

We’re all out here living like little robots half the time, following rules we didn’t even make. Anyone can program you into believing almost anything.

Hell, maybe someone is programming me right now. Who knows?

And after all of that, after all the complexity of being alive, your biggest concern is whether a woman has standards?

Honestly, I feel sad for you.

I don’t think that’s a very interesting way to live.

But that’s just me talking.

And honestly, who cares what I think anyway?

At the end of the day, everyone has their own shit to deal with.

We talk about other people all the time, but I think half the time it’s just a distraction from whatever we’re avoiding in ourselves.

Maybe that’s why I’m so upset. Because life can be incredibly unfair. And yet, I still have so much to look forward to. It’s weird.

If the world ended tomorrow, I think I’d be okay. But I still wonder who I’ll end up with. I still want things. I still hope for things.

And then I get frustrated because I don’t get everything I want. But then again… who does?

Maybe I should stop thinking that way. Maybe I should start believing I’ll get everything I want. Even if life is unfair sometimes.

When I hear people complain about things that feel insignificant to me, I get a little upset inside. And I know that’s unfair too. Pain is pain. Everyone’s struggles are different.

But sometimes I can’t help thinking, “Wow. I wish I had your kind of problem instead of mine.”

I wish I had a functional family. And I love my family. But sometimes I don’t like them very much. I guess that’s probably true for most families.

I didn’t choose who my parents are.

I didn’t even ask to be born.

But I’m here now.

So what am I going to do about it? I mean… what else can I do except keep going? Of course, I wish I had parents I could rely on more.

Maybe I wouldn’t have so much debt. Maybe things would’ve been easier.

And honestly, I used to be really angry about that. Sometimes I still am. But even after all of that, there’s still this tiny part of me that believes I’ll make it somehow.

And maybe that’s the important part.

Maybe that tiny voice is enough.

Maybe one day that little part of me will become the biggest part of me.

Who knows?