The Winter, The Lake and Where am I?

I sat in my car seat, started the engine, and blasted the heat that wasn’t heat at all. The dust particles of the cold engine air blew in my face and I prayed for it to warm so my bitter discomfort would end. My pack of cigarettes was disappearing and I had no money to buy a new one, but I lit one up anyway. It was completely unnecessary but somehow brought me some sense of comfort. Cigarettes can become your best friend. They listen to all that you have to say and give no feedback. That’s all anybody really wants. We all love to talk but can’t stand to listen.
         I drove uncertain of a destination. I just needed to get away. I needed to be somewhere alone and feel freed from all that was permeating through my body; my mind. Racing thoughts would not slow and I didn’t know why I suffered from such anxiety. It was a mix of a vast amount of things. Who was? Who was I becoming? I had never questioned myself so much in my life. All of my certainties were disintegrating and so was my physical condition. I felt like I was dying to be quite honest. Like each breath could be my last. My eyes were so heavy; caffeine had become my new source of life. It kept me together.
         The night prior had brought me to my brink. My social status was becoming defined by consecutive nights of drinking and smoking pot. It kept me numb to the realities of the world. I didn’t want to figure it all out yet. I completely resisted coming to terms with where I was and the decisions I was forced to start making. College? “I don’t fucking care about college,” I thought. My high school career consisted of failing attempts to do well. I lacked the self motivation that many of my other friends had. I knew I was a smart kid and I knew I was capable, I just didn’t care enough. All I cared about was love. Weird, right? Love is all I needed. I wanted to fall into it deeply and not care about anything else. But love was not easy to find so I settled for not caring about anything else.
         Life can be hard when the better half of you is hidden. The parts of me that I loved most and thrived on were kept secret. For a long time, I accepted my reserved notions. I was that quiet kid. That kid that you wanted to figure out but decided you’d stray away from because you didn’t want to work too hard at making a friend. So, I avoided long term friendships and made myself the comic relief; the student that chimed in with a nice joke, making the whole class laugh. After school, I would sit in my room and draw pictures of people, the people I wanted to be. I would write songs about my sadness and vent in that manner. No one knew who I was, they only thought they knew.
         Like most kids in my position, music became my best friend. Dark songs would send me into a dream world where I could live and feel accepted. I was surrounded by people that took place of the notes flowing through my ears. The lyrics would create a story and I was the main character. I wanted to make my own music, so I wrote lyrics upon lyrics. No one heard them though. I didn’t have the confidence to share them. They felt right to me; I swore that somebody would love them as I did. I was just afraid that my conviction was wrong so I avoided sharing.
         Some people think that they know it all. They can sit and circle the world with their eyes and conclude that things should be different. They have all of the propositions in the world of how to better the life that we are all of part of together. Yet, they sit and talk but take no action. I have been one of those people. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t really know how to define who those people are. You have to experience an emotion to know what it actually is. I feel like I’ve experienced too many emotions in my time. That I have an explanation for almost everything, but no one else believes me. I’m trapped in a small box with too many people. I know exactly what is happening outside of this box; I can see the world outside of this, but no one will listen to my reasoning and thus, I am stuck.
         I put the car in reverse with my cigarette hanging off my lips. I was a mess, a complete mess. I pulled out of the drive way and headed to the lake. Going to the lake, I thought, would take me away from the problems I faced. But, it was winter, and with the sky looking so blank and solemn, my state of mind only suffered more. My scenery was an empty canvas that I could not paint. My mind was chasing me and I couldn’t outpace it.
         I sat on a bench and I flipped to my past. I closed my eyes and remembered what it felt like to know who I was. For a moment, I was in 7th grade again. I was twelve and I was happy. Seventh grade was my first year in a brand new town. It was not your picturesque vision of happiness. At the time, I was alone and longing for my old home. But, I was content with my solitude. I was my best friend and I could handle just being with myself. I miss that feeling.
         I know that if I were to relive that year when I was 12, I probably wouldn’t be as happy as I feel looking back upon it. No one is ever happy with where they are until they reach another point in there lives. Once we reach that point, we dwell on the happy moments from our past. Although throughout most of our lives, there are more bad days then good, we elude our suffering with the bleak illusions of happiness.
         Seventh grade was a changing time for me. I was a new kid in an unfamiliar area. It was my chance to reinvent myself and take advantage of the new experience. That, though, is a much easier feat to think about then actually put into action. It’s hard to change when you are so secure in your current stage. I wasn’t able to really change until a few years after 7th grade. Once the comfort set in, I was able to become who I really wanted to be. Honestly, not until high school was over did I feel completely self-assured and confident. Yet, I still struggle with it; it’s an unending battle.
         My eyes were closed as I sat by the lake painting pictures of the past that resembled the same photographs that I scanned through on a regular basis; pictures of smiles that took shape during the holidays and exciting moments of my youth. The lake blew a breeze in my face that felt like icicles being thrown against my skin. The warmth of those memories was challenged by the wind. The harsh weather kept me from returning to where I wanted to be.