A Letter to My Former Roommate

"Before I turn the lights out, tell me who the fuck you wanna be..."-Can I, Drake feat Beyonce

The first time you ever saw me cry was junior year over relationship problems. It was around September. The first time I ever saw you cry was senior year over a failed movement in one of your dance performances. I think that speaks volumes about who we were as people. I moved out of the room because our personalities clashed, and you liked it cold enough to freeze hell over. Still, even from a distance, I learned things from you. I prided myself on merits, that my GPA and class rank constituted my intellect and that it surpassed that of others beneath me. Never did I have your street smarts though, your inability to hold weight to others' opinions. Seeing you in love was a strange and sometimes amusing development because even then, it was evident your love for him never replaced the love for yourself. You were strong. You never knew you were someone I admired because I felt like you shouldn't have been. Did I have this flaming jealousy? Perhaps somewhere, but I love you and know you'll never see these words, and that's okay.

MTV Cribs: Andrea's Mindful Madness

"You know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation. Always stay gracious. Best revenge is your paper..."-Formation, Beyonce

Welcome to my head, and I'm not referring to the kind you learned about in earlier posts. Today I will be exploring a rather sensitive subject: my hypersensitivity. I am on a roll. Most associates and close friends would not hesitate to describe me as goofy. While that is definitely a major character trait for me, it isn't so much that I aspire to be a stand-up comedian or reality television star. Rather, me being goofy is more or less a way to avoid deeper social interaction. Prior to reading my blog, many of you probably underestimated my intelligence, which was good for me. I've never had the confidence to be conflictual, so by serving as comedic relief in the midst of debates, I never had to choose a stance. Ever.

The other truth to it though? I don't really fuck with people like that. In groups it's better to be funny than intimate. That reverts back to caring what people think. To feel safe, it was easier for me to develop close relationships, open up to people afterwards, and then deal with whatever came next. (Typically disappointment or estrangement from said people) Despite it all though, I went through the motions constantly feeling betrayed or victimized before deciding I have a voice. It just needs to develop to the point of becoming unwavering. Assertive people came off as cocky or rude to me. It's like I resented them for choosing power over how people treated them. Meanwhile, I'd lay around docile, terrified to rock the boat. In a small, sad way I've been manipulative from day one.
It's sad it took me months to tell my best friend I always want him to take the long way to my house or that when people raise their voice in the slightest bit, I'm on edge. No longer.

And while I understand the importance of sometimes biting your tongue, I don't condone completely swallowing it. The only person that will choke is...well you.