Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
I have a passion that is unrequited, one that must baffle God Himself. It is as if X (this poor soul as the variable to the equation of my addiction,) captured my heart and squeezed it. Disgusting right? I deeply loathe the power of affection for this mathematical term, to the point that I am ashamed of the glances I try to steal like a child at a candy shop.
I would wait in the hallway to watch X gallop like a white stallion stealing the spotlight up the ramps of this high school citadel. I know I sound like a stalker, like a cheetah on the hunt for love. I wasn't hunting but instead captured.
Each day I succumbed to X's attractive nature. The goofy smile, uncontrolled hair and, sadly, poised attire that would make a sane mortal look X's smooth and save presence as normal. Not I. I became so desperate for the attention of my obsession that when the summer signaled my freedom, I declined the invitation. Instead I lost myself in the beautiful labyrinth.
The summer of 2011 signaled my emotional D-day. It was here X had moved away from our high school. This caused my heart to burst and brake down as if it were chemically altered. This had thrown me into my own Dante's Inferno. I begin to take heed of the situation, and desperately cling to every memory I had left of X, from fading into the back of my subconscious, never to resurface again. The father apart from X's luminescence I go, is the reason I cannot swallow rejection in this isolation.
I don't know why this simple sensation is the most difficult to digest. It causes the worst nausea of uncertainty. This boulder I've been forced to swallow has ripped me from the inside out. This addiction has kept me enslaved but the worst far has yet to be realized, for if I fear that X wouldn't return my love, what if X moves on to Y to produce Z for Zygote?
Why bother to continue with love in the fear of rejection? To this I accredit an old African saying. "However long the night, the dawn will break." It is here where I learn the true importance, the real essence of my suffering. I have to accept rejection as what makes me a kinder soul. The situation had a drastic impression on me and left a positive influence. Being able to accept rejection showed me that based on our experiences in life, we are offered an opportunity to grow and learn from our situations, whether they may be truly traumatic or deeply emotional. I see myself to be a well rounded person. Through this chapter in my young adult life, I've learned to accept rejection is not the end, but the beginning. It's the start of a new story, a new journey, a new love, a new X.
I have a passion that is unrequited, one that must baffle God Himself. It is as if X (this poor soul as the variable to the equation of my addiction,) captured my heart and squeezed it. Disgusting right? I deeply loathe the power of affection for this mathematical term, to the point that I am ashamed of the glances I try to steal like a child at a candy shop.
I would wait in the hallway to watch X gallop like a white stallion stealing the spotlight up the ramps of this high school citadel. I know I sound like a stalker, like a cheetah on the hunt for love. I wasn't hunting but instead captured.
Each day I succumbed to X's attractive nature. The goofy smile, uncontrolled hair and, sadly, poised attire that would make a sane mortal look X's smooth and save presence as normal. Not I. I became so desperate for the attention of my obsession that when the summer signaled my freedom, I declined the invitation. Instead I lost myself in the beautiful labyrinth.
The summer of 2011 signaled my emotional D-day. It was here X had moved away from our high school. This caused my heart to burst and brake down as if it were chemically altered. This had thrown me into my own Dante's Inferno. I begin to take heed of the situation, and desperately cling to every memory I had left of X, from fading into the back of my subconscious, never to resurface again. The father apart from X's luminescence I go, is the reason I cannot swallow rejection in this isolation.
I don't know why this simple sensation is the most difficult to digest. It causes the worst nausea of uncertainty. This boulder I've been forced to swallow has ripped me from the inside out. This addiction has kept me enslaved but the worst far has yet to be realized, for if I fear that X wouldn't return my love, what if X moves on to Y to produce Z for Zygote?
Why bother to continue with love in the fear of rejection? To this I accredit an old African saying. "However long the night, the dawn will break." It is here where I learn the true importance, the real essence of my suffering. I have to accept rejection as what makes me a kinder soul. The situation had a drastic impression on me and left a positive influence. Being able to accept rejection showed me that based on our experiences in life, we are offered an opportunity to grow and learn from our situations, whether they may be truly traumatic or deeply emotional. I see myself to be a well rounded person. Through this chapter in my young adult life, I've learned to accept rejection is not the end, but the beginning. It's the start of a new story, a new journey, a new love, a new X.
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