Departed infinity.

Time scares me. It is becoming a seemingly incurable, daunting, triggering cause for anxiety in my life. There are so many places I wish to travel, so many sights I long to see. There are so many foods that I would like to sample and savor. There are so many sounds that I would love to hear: waves crashing in the surf or a newborn child inhaling his first breath of life. There are so many people that I desire to become acquainted with. Numerous, extraordinary occasions have already been achieved during my short dwelling in this world, but I am burdened with the worry that I will not have enough, or that too much will be regretted.

My great Aunt died last night. She lived in the same general geographical area for her entire existence. She never married. She never had children. She died alone.

She ran out of time.

I fear that life speeds past with a velocity too powerful. Lovely moments are gone too soon. I fear that too much time is wasted in accomplishing mundane tasks and lounging in useless monotony. I fear that I will not live to participate in certain experiences, and that withstanding, lasting memories will fall short in being created.

But rather than being dominated with trepidation, I am going to make an effort to cherish my time, and sincerely make it matter.

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Leave me to wallow in my teenage self-pity.

I am chronically plagued by the fear that I will never find true love. It is becoming a constant, personal concern, as it displays an extreme reluctance to dissipate from the forefront of my mind. For some, the matter of dying alone may be only based upon their inability to find a suitable mate. I feel as though, in my case, the problem is both exaggerated but also reversed.

The young men of my generation trouble me. These days, boys exhibit blatant disrespect and a lack of morals and manners. Laziness consumes them. Too many do not posses a striving interest for intelligence through education and experience. While all of these characteristics are not limited to the male gender, it does seem to be more visibly prominent. Statistical calculations have validly proven that more woman are graduating educational institutions over the contrary sex.

If by some remarkable chance of Fate, I do find an appropriate suitor fit to my liking, my primary cause for distress is that he won’t find me to be good enough. Through my seventeen years of living, my on-going journey of self-discovery has led me to realize that I have an abundance of faults. Sure, I have my pros, but my cons voluminously exist.

Trust and forgiveness would be some exemplifications of negative personal aspects of my being. To gain trust, a most important relationship quality, from me is a difficult feat. Once it has been broken or has dispersed, I struggle with an inability to bestow forgiveness.

We exist in a world that has become engulfed with divorces, abuse, unfaithfulness, and misery. The evolution of society has transformed us to become conditioned to these tragedies. It is entirely too common for a relationship to be destroyed by these circumstantial reasons. So, even if I were to find a worthwhile partner, who is to say that the previously mentioned afflictions will not tear everything apart?

There are specific times when my uncertainties are magnified and distorted. Whether I am crossing paths with an elderly couple or encountering teenagers who are consumed with blissfully ignorant love, these only prompt me to recall my own particular relationship status.

Some may find my fears to be unfounded or silly; but to me, while my young, innocent age and worldly inexperience may pose to be a prominent factor in my reasoning, these insecurities I harbor weigh down my physiological composition and alter my mental stability.

Despite the diffuse wordiness of this post, I feel it can be summarized into the following sentence: I’m afraid that I am destined to die alone with 29 cats.