Who has the Time

Time is a social construct.
I was taught its ways. Being a type A personality I planned out my life according to societies standards. I wanted structure, so I accepted the constraints on how life was supposed to go. The dream was to marry my high school sweetheart. We both go to college together. We graduate and then get dream jobs. Find the perfect house, white picket fence and all. We have perfect children. Have a family and work balance. Go on family vacations. Send my kids off to college. Then retire having lived the perfectly happy life.
However, things never go according to plan.
I tried to force it.
I wanted to be the exception.
It could happen for me.

I got a high school boyfriend.

I had written a note to a guy that I talked to. He had the locker next to mine. He never responded to any of my hints.
I was dating a guy from work at McDonald's, but I knew that relationship wasn't going to work. He was too nice, there was no spark.
After a basketball game, there was a dance, and finally the guy I'd been hinting to danced with me. He said he wanted me to be his girlfriend.
I later learned it was only because I had big boobs that his friends talked him into dating me.
I told him I would, but I needed to break up with the guy from work. Then a week later we could be official. He agreed.
A week later he missed school. Maybe he didn't want to be with me.
The next day we became official, I swept my doubt under the rug.
Then we did couple things. We were happy high school couple.
One day, when we were in his room, he said I should wear my cousins ring, because he thought we should get married. I agreed and was excited. I had my high school sweetheart.
Everyone at school was happy for us.
I ignored red flags.

I got into every college I applied to.
He did not.
But we were supposed to go to college together. So I compromised. I'd go to a branch. I could transfer to the big university, and he could prove to be worthy.
We were both going to be doctors.

We got married a year after graduating high school.
Everything was on track to being perfect.

Except, it wasn't. I ignored more signs. I suffered to keep up an appearance. Society told me that marriage was work. So I worked. I worked and worked for perfection.
Until I couldn't.

I pretended up and through my graduation.

Then I had to separate and get a divorce. With that divorce, I fell apart. Everything I had tried to build, was gone.
On top of it. I didn't get into medical school.
Every single thing I worked so hard for.
For nothing.

I lost who I was.
All due to the idea that I had in my head, that happiness was how well you perfected the dream in time.
I forced situations to force happiness.
And in the end, I had lost who I was.
How could I be happy, if I wasn't me, but another sheep following the herd.

I will not simplify my life into check marks next to lists made for others.

So many red flags ignored.

The high school fights.
The lies.
The manipulation.
The cheating.
The fights.
All swept under the rug, so the appearance could be kept.

And now my house is a mess. I have yet to use my college degree. I have no husband. No kids. No house. And I'm almost 30.

When the elderly ask what I'm doing. Why do I have none of these things?

I'm only thirty. What is the rush?

Yes, I still want all of these things, but I rushed the first time, and it set me back. I don't want anymore setbacks.

I just want to be happy.

I'll get there.

My type A personality still has me planning.
But I've learned that they don't have to be written in stone.
And if time is a social construct,
Then I want to be antisocial.