Girl reading

A Character in my Story

It’s a rather dismal Monday night in September (a strange month for me back in the day because I would be excited for school to start while simultaneously deeply wistful that summer should be coming to an end. I have since come to learn that we, as a society, are very prone to an “either-or” mentality when it’s perfectly acceptable to think “both-and”. IE: We are allowed to feel two conflicting things and that was very comforting for me to realize and greatly reduced a lot of my inner turmoil). 

The air outside is smokey, giving the world a dull, grey, tired appearance. But it’s cozy inside my room so I would rather think about that. I’m seated at my desk, looking out at the familiar old tree as I have done so many times before. I’m drinking tea; my fairy lights are on, and I’m bundled up in my house coat even though it’s only just past 5pm. 

Today, I thought of all the babies who were born, and all the people who got promoted at work, and all the people who fell in love, or discovered their new favourite book. Then I decided that even though it’s a rather dreary Monday, there are still plenty of good things about today. For me too. 

Sometimes, I like to think of myself as a character in a book and I wonder what’s going to happen to me tomorrow, or in three weeks, or five months down the road. And I wonder if the reader would like me, and cheer me on, or cry for me, or if I would make them laugh, or frustrate them to no end, or teach them something about life or about themselves that they hadn’t realized before. 

It’s kinda nice and weirdly comforting to think of myself as a character. It’s like I become more endearing in my own eyes (is this why people say you should speak to yourself like you are talking to a friend?). 

For example, when I think about myself as a girl in a book, my mistakes are silly things that I, too, can laugh about, and my failures are simply part of the plot to lead to something greater, and my hardships are there to humble me/teach me things, and the villains are necessary to show what I’m made of/keep the story interesting. Also, I can rest assured that certain triumphs are destined to happen at one point or another because it wouldn’t be much of a story without something to cheer for and, after all, I am the heroine. 

On another note, it’s interesting to wonder if I’m the villain in someone else’s story. I don’t like to think about myself as the villain but I suppose it must be true because people have both light and dark inside of them and show different sides of their character to different people at different moments or else their actions may simply be interpreted in a villainous way even though that may not have been their intention. 

I suppose my point is that in viewing myself as a character instead of the author, there is something incredibly liberating about releasing control of things and just letting the story develop in whatever way it is supposed to. 

For the adventures of my character today, maybe you would like to know that I ate leftover lasagna for dinner, and then stood looking out the window at the neighbour who decided to fix his roof, today of all days. Now I might run a bath and listen to Hamilton for a laugh while I wash my hair, and then I will probably moisturize my face. After that, I may read some more of Call Me By Your Name, and then whistle a merry tune while I put on nail polish and not even feel impatient while waiting for it to dry (which sounds like a pointless fact to state but if you had been reading my story since the beginning, you would know that this is, in fact, character development!!). Finally, I may indulge in another cup of tea, and then crawl into bed, and turn off my fairy lights, and my dear reader will wonder what’s going to happen next. 

And so will I!

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