It’s not broken

by Katie Welker

I don’t have time for someone else. You can go ahead and call me a nasty name for being so forward about it, but I’m only 24 years old, and to me, being selfish is okay right now. I suppose I could readjust my priorities, stay up a little later every night and attempt to integrate another person into my scattered routine. I could. But I probably won’t.

You would have to sweep me off of my feet, push my buttons without offending me, play into my lame jokes, be as flexible as a freshly cooked piece of spaghetti with my hectic schedule and drive me crazy in the best way possible in order for me to even consider it. And even then, I’m not sure I would want to give up the lifestyle that I have right now.

I like not having to think twice when I say “yes” to every crazy idea that comes my way.

I like going to the gym at whatever time I want and not worrying about getting ready all over again. The dinner I’d rush to get ready for would probably cost too much and be less exciting than the episode of The Newsroom I specifically bought HBO for or the rerun of How I Met Your Mother that I will undoubtedly laugh at.

I like having my bed to myself even though I only take up one tenth of its entirety.

I like sitting on my kitchen counter top with my roommate before dinner and talking about life’s confusion and the humorous situations we find ourselves wrapped up in.

It’s cliche’, but if I’m not totally satisfied with myself and my life then I can’t possibly give another person what they deserve from me in a relationship. I’m constantly looking for ways to improve myself and my circumstances. Maybe it’s a never-ending chase for more intrinsic fulfillment, but it’s a journey I’m enjoying right now.

It should be a priority to take care of yourself first. If not, who will? Love will come at some point in the future. It has always snuck up on me when I’ve expected it the least and I have no doubt it will come about in the same way again. Maybe in three years, maybe when I’m old and retired, who knows, maybe tomorrow. I’ll be ready for it when it does, but I’m not eager.

All I know is this: my life isn’t broken, so I’m not about to go on a search to find something or someone to fix it up. I’m a sucker for love, but i’m not foolish enough to settle.

Hey, you know they’re all the same.
You know you’re doing better on your own, so don’t buy in.
Live right now.
Yeah, just be yourself.
It doesn’t matter if it’s good enough for someone else.
It just takes some time, little girl you’re in the middle of the ride.
Everything (everything) will be just fine, everything (everything) will be alright (alright).

You don’t know

by Katie Welker

Each individual comes with a story. More often than not, that story is complicated, wrapped in experiences that ignite some combination of hurt, excitement, loss and love.

I am compelled multiple times a day to learn those stories that people have tucked away in their back pocket. Most of the time I will candidly ask someone, “so how did you two get married? How did you get to the place you’re at right now?” as if it’s as common as asking, “hey how are ya?”

Other times I observe the actions of others: how they respond to questions asked, their facial expressions as they talk with another and a million other cues. I’m fascinated by it all, but it can be difficult to not let my own emotions get the best of me.

Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more for other people, yet so much is simply out of my control. I just want to solve everyone’s problems and bring them peace of mind and a pillow to rest their head on at night. Wanting to understand other people’s stories and provide them happiness where I sense despair is a constant internal battle I deal with.

In the span of a one hour lunch I go from seeing a homeless man struggling to find food right to businessmen and women driving around in BMW’s. And ya know what? The businessmen and women have a story, too. Maybe they struggled to get where they are now and had to overcome hardships to achieve the success that they wanted. I don’t know. And neither do you. Which is why it’s so important to disregard outward appearances and superficial statuses and try to get to the root of the story instead.

There doesn’t seem to be a solid solution for my conflict. That’s why it I tend to be disheartened by it. I guess all I’m asking is that if you’re reading this, do your best to view everyone fairly and with good grace. Some are struggling, some are not. But regardless, everyone deserves the chance to not only tell his or her story, but to have it heard.