12/26/12 1:57 AM

As I talked to my mother about her life earlier that evening, it occurred to me that I wanted to look back at this random journal entry, many many years later, and regard my teenage years without a sense of regret. Of course I have regrets. Everyone does. Mine mostly lie in how I've acted. Personality regrets, you could call them. Things I wish I could change but I know I never will. I regret my personality more than I ever will regret actions. Of course, as in everything, there are certain actions I would have liked to avoid committing. Those, however, were all due to my personality. Actions, and their consequences, will be forgotten. A reputation, however, is lasting. No matter how hard you try to wash away the taint of your reputation, people will always see what they want to see. I'm 16 right now. Someday, I want to rediscover this journal and recall the way I felt writing these words. I want to remember who I was, and remember the things that were going on in my life that seemed to be significant.

The current state of affairs is this: I recently broke up with my boyfriend, because I wasn't happy. He was simply...too nice. He wasn't interesting, or colorful. When I read this journal many years later, I hope I recall how hard it was to do the right thing, how hard it was to break someone's heart, simply because he wasn't what I wanted. As of now, I don't believe in high school relationships. I don't believe in giving my heart to someone, only to take it back when four years is up. Give me unattached intimacy with someone, and I will be content. I'm aware that this seems too mature for a 16 year old's mindset. Surely, I will read this journal and wonder how I became so grown up at 16. Perhaps I will judge myself, condemn my actions for the worst. Perhaps I will experience regret, the emotion I dread the most. For the moment, however, I don't care what my future self thinks of me. I don't want to fall in love, but I don't want to be alone. What's so wrong with enjoying being kissed? Enjoying someone touching you, wanting you? I don't want to be responsible for someone else's emotions. I can hardly decide what I'm feeling, and when. My future self can judge me, but this is my current state of affairs.

I don't know where or who I will be when I read this journal again. I might be on a break from college, sifting through my old things and, having stumbled upon this journal, I will recall the misadventures of my teenage years. Maybe I will be in my 40's, and after talking to my own daughter about my relationships, or lack thereof, I will search for the long forgotten document of my youth. Or maybe, maybe it will only be a few days before I read these words again. Regardless of the time that passes, I want to keep writing. I want to have a record of all the things I was feeling and doing when I was 16 years old.