Autumn Leaves

October 5, 2011
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The leaves are beautiful this time of year. They're starting to lose their bright, green shade, beginning to become a dull brown. But it's still lovely. I like that the leaves change color by season. It signifies change. Sometimes I like change, the good kind of change, like the color of leaves. It makes me wonder if I've changed in a way that an autumn leave has. Have I lost my green and welcomed my brown? Perhaps not. I don't feel different. I don't look any different. But sometimes when I look in the mirror I don't see myself. I see someone entirely different from the usual appearance. It comes very rarely, which is why I don't think about it often. But sitting under these trees brings the thought back.
Sometimes I like the girl I see staring back at me. She looks very bright and happy. She displays a very warm smile and her eyes seem to carry some sort of pleasant secret that she is dying to tell, but doesn't. She seems very confident with herself. She carries herself properly and holds her head up in way that tells the world she does not carry burdens. She is her own person. She does not follow others because following others is simply boring. Why be someone else when you can be yourself? Many admire her for this strong sort of attitude and she takes this matter seriously. For being admired is a splendid achievement. I like this girl. I wish for her to stay.
But there are the darker days that occur as well. I step in front of the mirror to see a completely different girl. Instead, this girl looks terrible, absolutely terrible. Her lips lay in a thin line, chapped and bitten, on her flushed face. Her shoulders slouch, showing her lack of motivation and confidence. This girl hasn't been able to touch a single piece of food and lacked a good night's sleep. She often sits in her room at night, thinking about countless things that may never occur and usually don't matter, but they drown her until her mind is numb. She never feels good enough for anyone, because she never has been. Loved by many, but still feels alone. She knows she's being ridiculous most of the time. She's young and has been wonderful days ahead of her, but the future scares her. She doesn't like looking beyond her present, afraid of envisioning something that might not ever become true. So instead, she lives in the past. I hate this girl. I wish for her to leave.
Staring up at the changed leaves, I hope to become them one day. I hope that I'll shed my awful shade of green that is nothing but a load on my shoulders I need to shrug off, and become a beautiful soft brown that is full of hope and courage. I hope that one day I'll look that terrible girl in the mirror, look her straight in those empty eyes, and tell her it's time to grow up. I want to smash that mirror until the remains of the empty girl with empty dreams is not even a memory, but just another buried moment in my past. I will become that very girl that is admired and loved. I will become that girl who knows exactly where she is going and who she is going to be. I will become myself.





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