Modern GirlsPascal Pierrou


Modern Girls
Pascal Pierrou

(Source: watermelon-ocean)

(Source: neekaisweird)

I made this blog at the end of my freshman year when I was scared and I needed to write down my thoughts while I stressed and going through finals. I was scared to move forward and unsatisfied with my freshman year. 

I’ll be a senior in college in a month. I’m not ready to graduate but I feel proud of what I’ve accomplished. I’ve moved out of state on my own (not far out of state, but still), to an unfamiliar environment. I have a paying job, internships under my belt. One semester I made dean’s list. When I actually try hard in class, I get a lot of praise from my professors. Most of the time I just slip in and out of class. I’ve made a lot of friends. I don’t feel like I have one best friend. I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m still a virgin. I read the posts I wrote three years ago. Then I had kissed two people. Now it’s three. I’m pretty sure it’s three, at least. 

I take that back, it’s four. 

Every time I’ve kissed, made out, hooked up, whatever, I’ve been drunk. At a frat party. A college bar (a college I don’t go to). 

I tell myself I’m not alone. I have plenty of friends who love me. I feel closer to my parents than ever. I just don’t have one person. I don’t have one best friend to call everyday. Or every week. I have a close knit group of friends from high school who will answer my calls and listen to my problems when then come up. But they won’t call me everyday or every week to detail their problems and developments and hookups and letdowns. We all chat continuously on facebook, but it’s mostly complaining about the little nuisances in our lives. It keeps us close. But it doesn’t help me from feeling lonely. They all have one best friend, a boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other/sibling they can call everyday. They all have their one person. I used to have one person. But she moved very far away and it’s nearly impossible to keep in touch. Freshman year she was still close. I called her almost everyday. I remember it as calling her everyday but I know there must have been big stretches where I didn’t do that. But I definitely texted her everyday. But she’s moved far away. We still love each other in the unconditional way best friends love each other, but we don’t have the same bond that we used to. People ask me how she’s doing and I get annoyed because I don’t really know. When we skype she’s rehearsed funny anecdotes to tell me, and we’re not having a conversation. I’m watching her perform.

But that isn’t the point. The point is that I’m sitting alone in my apartment for the summer. My last true summer before I have to worry about getting a real job, having a real job, keeping a real job, paying all my bills, keeping my loans in check. And this is my first taste of how truly lonely I am. I can’t escape it, my roommate is gone for the summer. We don’t have a particularly close bond. We are friends somedays and roommates other days. We don’t do very much together unless we make a point to. It’s nice when we do. 

When I graduate, I have no one to live with. No one to call everyday. No college sexcapades to share. I’m afraid I’m not doing enough and exploring enough and going to enough to places and meeting enough new people. I do more of that than a lot of people I know, but that doesn’t mean it’s enough. 

Every time I leave I’m hyper aware of my loneliness. I get a break at work. Seven hours sharing one cubicle. I don’t feel so alone.

When school gets back in I’ll see all my friends. We’ll drink together. I’ll have plans most nights of the week. I’ll feel challenged by my independent study and my extracurriculars. I’ll be walking to class, and I’ll think to myself “Okay. I’m truly happy. I’m as happy as I can be right now.” And I’ll forget that I ever felt this way and I’ll hopefully never feel this way again. 

(Source: aftrbang)

(Source: soul-frosts)

I hoped we never had to realize all the opportunities we missed in this life.

The Year of Pleasures, Elizabeth Berg (via fuckyeahliteraryquotes)

The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to experience.

Dune, Frank Herbert (via fuckyeahliteraryquotes)

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