Revelation at the red light.

I’ve been thinking a lot over the past couple of days.

And I’ve come to another realisation. It’s not that I don’t know who I am. It’s that I do.

I know exactly who I am. I know who my friends are. I know what I’m doing. I know where I’m going and which roads in life I’m willing to take.
If things don’t exactly turn out the way I want them to, I won’t be upset. I’ll make them better.

It’s scary sometimes to actually be so sure of myself in this aspect of life. My mind is telling me that it’s not normal. No nineteen year old knows who they are. Most nineteen year olds are still soul-searching. Most nineteen year olds would write an entry expressing the complete opposite to what I’m writing.

I know that I’m a hypocrite, and I’ll admit it. I know the difference between right and wrong, and I’ll admit that I don’t listen to myself sometimes.

I’m more than happy with the way everything has panned out so far.

But I’m afraid of not getting to feel this way forever.