Edema Rue

If you Google "personality test", you'll get about 879,000,000 results. There are a lot of them, and I've taken my fair share, whether for classes or on my own. I'm an ENFP-T, a two, a blue (tinted white), an Edgedancer, the Green Ajah (though actually, this one change fairly consistently), a Hufflepuff, a daughter of Hestia, etc., etc.

These tests don't define me. They don't determine who I am. But there are bits of truth in them, things that I see and understand that I don't need them to tell me because I know they're true. 

I care.

I will not forget you.

I am here.

But there are extremes to every emotion, and to be young is to live in a world of extremes and emotions. It's a strange battlefield, the mind of a teenager. Filled with hormones and hopes, dopamine and dreams, science that is desperate to explain that which cannot be explained, and gods that are desperate to convince us there are no true deities. 

And sometimes I care too much for things that only weigh on me; things like rep. I've fallen on the leaderboards, and for some reason that struck me; I am being forgotten by a world that I have cared for. (yes, that's overdramatic. As I said before, the minds of the young are extreme places. That's the thought that came into my head, and regardless of whether it is true, it's what my mind jumped to). I care about things like the rain, and the sunset. I have a waxed amaryllis on my nightstand. It started to bloom, and then the petals crumpled and died before the flowers ever opened, and I cried because I care for the little things. I've cried over bugs being stepped on. I cry because I care. But often, I care too much for the little things.

And sometimes I remember. I refuse to forget the little things, and so sometimes my mind is filled with memories of a past that will never return, a past that I cannot bring back but that I cannot help but recall. 

And though I swear I will always be here, I sometimes am in too many "heres" at once. And once it becomes too much, I cannot stand to be anywhere, and so I cannot be "here" for anyone, because I tried to be here for everyone.

I'm going to change gears for a moment. Studies have shown that human brains have the same chemical reaction to leaving the office at the end of the day as baby chimpanzees do to being torn from their mother's arms. That's...kind of a crazy thing to think about. Something so simple as ending a day affects us so hugely.

We, as humans, fear endings. We fear goodbyes. We fear simple change because maybe it'll be a permanent change, and maybe what comes next will hurt. Maybe we're doing it wrong, and we'll make one mistake and never be able to undo it. And I...I care. I am not alone in this, and I am not alone in my fear of endings. Sports teams cry after state; casts cry after closing night; many seniors cry when they graduate; breakups bring so many tears even if everyone knew it was coming. We fear what comes next and so we don't dare say goodbye to what we have now.

But...but look at how powerful that is. Isn't it wonderful that we have something we love so much that we are scared to leave it? Isn't it wonderful that we have the ability to care for so many things? It hurts, yes. It hurts like Braize itself to leave things behind. And being young...well, we live in a world of change. The only thing that's consistent is that everything that makes up our todays is going to be different in our tomorrows. It's terrifying.

And it's beautiful.

So...is there a point to all of this?

No.

And yes.

I fear being forgotten. I fear missing things I could have had. People often say to leave your foot in the door; to hold it open just in case you have a chance to open it later. Well...I must have hundreds of feet. I'm holding a whole lot of doors open. But the funny thing is...when you're so stretched trying to keep doors from closing, you can't really open any of them. 

And I need to let some doors close so that I can open others. 

Now, I'm not leaving the shard.

Not yet.

Not completely.

But that won't be true forever.

It could be a few months. It could be years. But the shard is a world that moves so quickly. It's...to those of you who have read The Fault in Our Stars, it's that third place. Where even if you're sitting on your couch, you aren't really there. You're somewhere else, a place that cannot exist outside our minds and our technology. And it's a place where, if you do not feed it your time, you grow outdated so quickly. It's a place where we can be forgotten so quickly. Most of the people who were here when I joined aren't here or aren't active anymore. And that's okay. And someday, possibly someday soon, I'll join them.

But not today, because for today I am afraid to say goodbye to another thing I love.

Anyway.

This is not only the longest but also the most redundant SU I've ever posted. But, ah, yeah. 

This has been a bizarre and deep roller coaster with your friend Eddie Rue. TLDR: emotions are weird. Saying goodbye is scary. I'll leave the shard eventually, possibly soon, but not today. 

One family.

Woah

How do y’all survive saying your T’s all the time?

My vocal director was telling us our Utah accents were bad and we need to actually, y’know, say words. 

It’s so exhausting, like people actually live like this?? All the time??