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Saturday, February 21, 2009
10:38 am In bed.

When I wish on things (eyelashes, birthday candles) I wish for other people to be happy. I'm not telling you this because I want you to think I'm a wonderful person (I mean, I am - let's be clear), but I've been thinking about it a lot, and I need to talk about it. I've just come to the conclusion that if everyone else in the world was happy, I'd probably be happier too. I have a hard time believing there's a good reason for all the sadness in the world.

Like, do you ever see someone you just want to hug? I know that sounds kind of creepy, but I'm serious. I see people I want to hug all the time. Like the other day I was in the dining hall. It's in a mostly freshman dorm, so there are a lot of freshmen eating there - duh. And occasionally, I see kids eating alone. And some kids are totally okay with it - mostly upperclassmen who are doing work or grabbing lunch in between classes, but some just aren't, you know? It's like this kid who puts down his dishes at this empty table in a sea of crowded tables and just sits there and bites into his sandwich and eats as fast as he can because you know he just wants to get out of there. But he already skipped breakfast so he wouldn't have to eat alone, so he's starving, and he's looking around wondering if anyone sees that he's alone. And he puts his Ipod in so he can drown out the sounds of people chatting around him, because while that's really what he'd like to be doing at least this way he looks like he's busy. College isn't what he thought it would be. And I just want to stand up and yell "I'll eat with you!!!" But that's probably the last thing he wants - nobody wants a pity lunch date. So I just wish I could hug him and tell him everything's going to get better and that the first year of college is hard, but I promise it's going to get better.

And then last week in one of my classes the girl next to me started having a coughing fit. She's a grad student - tiny, blonde hair - and you could tell she was sick, but she was toughing it out, and she was there. So the teacher's talking, and she starts coughing. Just a little. Like she's trying to stifle it. But she keeps coughing. She drinks water to try to make it stop, but she just coughs more. She's letting out these little coughs when her body really just wants her to hack away and clear her lungs, but she's in the middle of class and everyone will notice if she runs out. So I'm next to her and she's turning red and her shoulders are shaking and she's tearing up as she's trying to stifle this cough and she's getting embarrassed because people are starting to notice, and I just want to say, "It's okay! Who cares about them? It's not your fault you have to cough!! I'm sorry you don't feel good. It's going to get better." Because we've all been there too.

And then the other day I'm walking down Comm Ave, and I walk by this girl who's crying into her cell phone. Like, really crying. And she's just walking down the street, crying quietly, talking to someone, and she just looked like she was in so much pain. Like, life couldn't get any worse. And I felt so sad for her because I've been that girl who cries into her cell phone and feels like the world is ending - in fact, I've been that girl many times in several different countries. Nobody should have to feel so much pain that they can't help but let it out, right there in the middle of the street.

And then yesterday I was watching the Grey's Anatomy I'd missed from Thursday, and, of course, this woman dies when they try to remove like half of her brain or something ,and they have to tell the husband, and he just starts sobbing and saying, "Where's my wife? I want my wife," and I just started bawling - just lying in bed, crying so hard for this imaginary man and his imaginary dead wife. And I wanted to hug him too.

And then finally, when we were in Disney World over the winter break, I saw this family all over our hotel that consisted of a distracted father, a miserable mother, a little girl, and two toddlers. Well, the reason I noticed them everywhere was because the mother was always yelling at this little girl. So one night, Mom and I are walking back to our room, and the miserable mother is a little ahead of us, pushing a double stroller, and the little girl is walking next to it. The little girl runs ahead of the stroller to trigger the automatic door to open, and while she's running she drops the toy she was holding - one of those spinny, light-up things you get at amusement parks - in front of the stroller. "See what you did? Are you happy? Are you happy?" the mother scolds the little girl before snatching the toy away from her. "You just had to run ahead and now look what you did." And I wanted to tap her on the shoulder and be like, "Um, excuse me, what did she do?" I mean, she dropped her toy and the mother had to stop the stroller for half a second so she didn't run it over, but you would have thought something horrible had happened the way this mother talking to her daughter. And the worst part is - she didn't really yell. She was just so mean, like quietly cutting into her daughter with her words. And the little girl looked so, so sad. Five seconds ago she'd been skipping and running, and now she just looked like, adult sad. You know? Like the sadness only adults should have to cope with, never little girls. And I remember just praying that some higher power would help her out in this life because with a mother like that she's going to grow up believing everything is her fault.

So, I don't know what the point of all this is. I've just been thinking lately that I don't understand why life has to have any sadness at all. Why can't we all just achieve our dreams and have the friends we want and the life and love that we want without all the suffering? Horrible, sad things happen to good people all the time, and it's not okay, but I don't really know what to do about it. I used to believe all the, "Everything happens for a reason" b.s., but I don't anymore. There's no reason for all the sadness and embarrassment I talked about above that happens everyday. I don't think it makes us stronger. I think it breaks us down.

Love,
Tara