Just because I am borrowing the “Twilight” series from the library doesn’t mean I am any less mentally apt at grasping abstract concepts. Sometimes, I enjoy being mentally stimulated by long philosophical dialogue. Other times, I want to giggle and kick my feet when Edward tells Bella he likes to watch her sleep — in an endearing way, of course. I have so many preferences that are subject to change, and I am not obligated to stick to only one thing. What happened to being a multifaceted human being?
So, while I know that, without a doubt, a crashout is on the way at one point or another, it doesn’t matter. I will get up from my bed after sobbing in it for a good hour or two and will move on with my life. That is something that I owe to myself — no matter how much it hurts or feels wrong. I will keep showing up, keep moving forward and — at some point or another — I hope it will be okay. I cannot tell the future, so I can only focus on what I have now. Let me be gentle and tend to my wounds.
Sure, it’s exciting to watch the main character navigate through their life and be forced to pick teams. But if this were your life, would you really enjoy being an option? Or if you were the one stuck in the middle, would it be morally right for you to string both of them along until you get to choose?
Sometimes the occasion for giving flowers is just because — just because you love someone, just because you were thinking of them or just because you’re there.
Since the genesis of my “Twilight” awakening, I have seen the film upwards of 10 times. I watched it most frequently as a kid, but for the past few years, it’s served as a welcomed respite from the stress of work and school, transporting me back to my childhood. So when I saw the Coolidge Corner Theater was showing “Twilight” on Oct. 19, I knew I had to go.
As someone who has kept a diary since her boy-crazy, “Twilight”-enthused middle school years, I have always been a person keen on reflection. As my column and this semester come to a close, I thought...
We come to college to shed the versions of our past selves that have followed us throughout middle and high school. We are handed a new chance to start over, to become the person we always wanted others...
