Who are they now?

The old, weathered journal cracked as I opened it. I began to read the first and only thing written on the pages, it was titled, in my best second grade hand writing, "Popular." By the time I finished decoding the grammatical errors and misspelled words, the sentences were covered in teardrops.
My first reaction was thinking why did waste hours looking for this? This question triggered me to ask, did I let my self down? The words my former self wrote explained who I would be at 17, popular. Words I had used to describe popular include: Cheerleader, tall, tan and slender, I would have long, dark brown, curly hair, I would be dating the popular, star quarterback, I would have straight A’s, I would drive a red convertible, and everyone would love me.  Water was now pouring out of my eyes, I am none of those things. I could not help but think I had failed my self. Until, I read the last line my younger, freckled and brace faced self wrote, “always be happy.”
After reading the last line about 16 times I started to understand that I might be more happy now, than my naive self could have ever pictured. I started to think about everything that made me feel good, everything that if I had them with me, nothing could stop me, this included: God, a loving family, friends, Christmas, making others happy, summer, country music, soccer, the beach, nature, sunshine, and laughter. There was a salty-ness in my mouth now, tears. Mascara was hiding my face, I never realized how happy I was with my life just the way it is, until I took the time to think about it.
Remembering the pain of my knee cap breaking and the sounds of it snapping, threw the tears into overdrive, it felt as if they were racing down my face.
Looking back at the night, what made it so painful was the fact that it was a darker time in my life, a point where I was not happy and that night was when my last dream was stolen and put out of my reach. I learned not to wish, but to fight for what makes you happy. I am not popular, I am not tall nor tan, I am not a cheerleader, I am not dating a football player, I do not have perfect grades, I do not drive a red convertible, and the people who do not care for me do exist, and I am happy. 


By: Jordan Currier