heart. beat. beat. beat. beat it.

It's some insane hour of the night, I'm exhausted because I've been prepping for finals... and yet here I am. Talking with you.
Why?
Well, because recently crawling into my bed at night hasn't even served as the refuge that it once did. I can't escape my worries in the unseen realms of sleep, even my dreams have been haunted by the nightmares that fill my waking hours.
Those I love most dealing with unreal stress.
Secrets I'm not allowed to tell.
Secrets others refuse to tell.
Heartbreak.
Sorrow.
and...
jaw lock.

Yeah, I'm a mess of stress and nerves in a tidy little package, tell you what.
But the sadness and stress I'm feeling right now have helped me to realize

Universal Truth Number Twenty Three
Heartbreak helps your heart grow stronger.

Perhaps this doesn't sound correct. When our hearts are broken, most of us feel that their heart has been permanently weakened, that it will never be the same again.
This is partially true. I'd agree that once a heart has been broken, it will never beat quite the same way again. The emotional scar tissue changes the way it pumps and thumps along.
But scar tissue thickens, and when dealing with your emotional heart (clearly not physical -- don't you worry, you pre-meds) scar tissue helps prevent further damage, and adds more depth.
More depth... to better love someone who truly deserves to hold your heart.
More depth for the person who will keep your heart safe.

Homegirl

There's something about moving out. Something about truly living on your own and being independent. Home is no longer home.
I can't explain it, am certain my family won't understand it, and yet I can't deny it. There is nothing better than sharing my time with those I love most (ie my family) and Dorothy summed it up best when she said that there's no place like home. But like visiting a childhood haunt, you can't help but feel you've outgrown it.

Let me explain that thought very carefully.
I haven't outgrown my family or spending time with them. Instead, just as you don't properly fit into your old tree house or fictitious world of barbies, I sometimes feel I don't properly fit back into the role I last held within my family.
Whenever I go home there awaits the same role and the same expectations I left when I moved out three years ago. I'm still the eighteen-year-old who loves the same activities, conversations, and people... or at least that's what my family expects to be the case.

It doesn't matter how much I have changed. I still find myself party to

Universal Truth Twenty Two
Those you aren't around, never seem to age in your mind.

I can't begrudge others for doing something that I do myself. But I find myself wondering what I can do to change such perception. When do I bridge the gap? When do I leave behind childhood completely and enter adulthood? Am I ever to do that completely, or will I always be Daddy's little girl and a pain in my mother's side?