Foolish One

screaming at the walls

I was the Jo March of the family. I always wished I was Amy, and eventually I wished I was Meg. Then somewhere along the way I envied Beth for the sweet ending of death- and I know that incredibly selfish of me, but it's true.

Meg was a beautiful wife and mother. All she ever wanted in life was to care for children and love. I never seemed to wrap my mind around that. I always had such big dreams. But those dreams always ended in me going home to a big mansion alone.

Amy though, she had such life in her. She had her big dreams, she got to love and have a family. I envied Amy. She searched and worked for her dream even while nobody seemed to care for her. She was always great, but in the end, she won. She got the whole package.

Yet, i've always been a Jo March girl. I've always loved the idea of being in love, and the feeling, but I always drive them off. I hold grudges, never knowing when to move on or to scream. I love the world and I hate being tied down, I love being alone, yet I hate being lonely. I used to be great, but now i'm just good. I love the snow but hate the cold, I love the guy but not the way i'm supposed to. I have this amazing support system around me, and people who want to see me succeed, yet i'm the first one who wants to see me fail. It's just so exhausting trying to be proud of yourself, but looking in a mirror and only seeing failure.

She didn't pay particular attention to the days of the week or the newest drama, she just clung to the present and wished for things.

However, I do pay attention to the days and today is Sunday. I have a date with Kace tonight, at this really fancy restaurant that he likes. Right now, i'm in a bookstore looking at different copies of the books i've reread hundreds of times. Every cover nowadays is so loud.

I run my fingers across the baby pink copy of "Little Women". It's such a classical book yet so many people over look it. But it's always been there. It has such a presence on woman in the way that the March daughters are all such different people, it gave hope that every person could relate to one of them.

I check out the two books i've picked up. One of them was a random one I saw on TikTok about a hockey player- stupid i'm sure, but that's never stopped me before. The other was about a girl and her lost love. Interesting enough.

On my 10 minute walk back to my apartment, I shuffle my 17 hour playlist I made when I was 15 and embrace the nice fall day.

My date is in about two hours, so I immediately start getting ready. I always have an anxiety about getting ready, a fear of running out of time maybe. Wow, really reflects my life now doesn't it.

I grabbed my hot pink speaker and set it up on the bathroom counter. I cranked that bitch.

"always talking to yourself, are you still happy?"
I sang along quietly to my own voice through the speaker while grabbing my curling iron from under the sink. I have this thing with my curling iron. I always have to make sure it's put away. Or i'll burn the apartment down.

Under the sink, I knocked over a couple boxes. I pulled out two new pregnancy tests. They're for emergencies, but I'm safe so it doesn't happen often.

I always feared pregnancy. Especially the weight gain. These past couple months i've gained more weight than ever. The worst part is I didn't realise I was until I was standing in front of a mirror wanting to die. It wasn't a drastic weight gain, but enough for me to be disappointed.

Nothing I do can be consistent. Not even my weight.

I snapped out of my thoughts and placed the boxes back into the cabinet. I grabbed the straightener and stood back up.

It took me about an hour to get fully ready. I checked over everything and put on my black Dior sling backs and grabbed a clutch. I admired myself in the long gold mirror in my bathroom and made my way to my living area.