[untitled post #2]

Yesterday in class I encountered a real question. Not just one of those textbook-answerable questions, but a real, life question. One, that had I not already thought about it for who knows how long I would not have been able to answer it.

You ready?

What  makes life worth living?

Now you don’t just throw that question at someone and expect them to know! That’s probably the biggest question every single person will face at some point…and I guarantee you will, because if you manage to go through life and never once question what makes it worth it…I’m honestly not sure that you lived life.

To put the question in easier terms, what drives you to get up in the morning? What small spark inside of you never goes out?

I won’t even try to answer it for you. Like I told one of my friends, that is something that you must question and search out for yourself. I can tell you what mine is…but it’s different for every single person.

Mine? What makes life worth living to me?

Two things.

My relationships with friends and family, and stories.

Despite the attention that I may or may not give to everyone I know, I care about my friends and family deeply. I know that I far too often do not show it, but I promise you that I do care. I care about some more than others, but that’s natural I think. I mean, my best friends are younger than me, my family is strange and quirky, but I love them. They may gossip and put down others too much for my taste sometimes, and they may make me feel like I can’t be right about anything sometimes, but my family is still dear to me. I still love them with all my heart. I guess it’s kind of a weird thing but I never really say goodbye to anyone I meet. It’s always sort of a “see ya tomorrow” or sometimes nothing. Maybe it’s delusion, or maybe it’s good faith that I will see them again no matter what happens.

Also, an interesting thing that came up while I was talking about this in class yesterday is that even though I’m an introvert, I flourish when I’m with friends. And when I don’t get to see friends, as happened this past break for me, I do actually get a little sad.

I can be honest when I say that surprised me.

I never expected to realize that about myself.

Anyways, moving on to the second part…stories.

Probably the second most important thing to me is stories.

Every single person has a story, some story that burns deep inside them. Each story that burns deep inside them is yearning to get out in some way, shape, or form. Some people make music,  some art, some legacies, and any other number of ways. A somewhat popular method is writing.

That I would say is indeed my chosen method.

My novel contains within it many, many aspects of my own life. It contains my personality, it contains my memories, it contains my hopes, dreams, it contains within the essence of who I am.

I realized while discussing it yesterday in class that I may never write another novel. Or at least not another novel like the one I’m writing right now.

This novel, this story, it contains who I am.

This novel is my story.

It is the story that has waited deep within me. It is the story that will define who I am. For that reason I am truly excited and overwhelmed to be writing my novel. When it is finally finished, my story will be there for all to read.

I can’t explain what it’s like to be writing a novel. I can’t explain what it’s like to tell my story. I can’t wait though for others to read it completely.

This story is me.

So what makes life worth living?

For me it’s people and stories.

I guess the question is, what makes life worth living for you?

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