We are leaving our safe, well-known homes only to go off and hope for the best. I am terrified. It isn’t the kind of fear I get when an awkward noise pierces the night, nor is it the type of fear I am filled with watching my sister eat macaroni and cheese. No, I have never experienced fear like this ever before. It is as if a beast has awoken from the cave of my stomach, mocking me with a deep, disgruntled humour called restlessness. It’s worse than my depression, it’s worse than my terribly awkward social life, and it is more horrible than my non-existent, dead in the ground romantic life. This is the fear of unknowing.

I really don’t know if I want to go off to college. I know it isn’t a simple yes or no answer, but I couldn’t even begin to fabricate anything to write about if I gave a fallacy in the form of either answer. I envy someone who can give that simple, but highly complicated, answer of “yes” or “no”. How nice it must be to be able to have complete control of one’s head, and make a decision on something as large as the rest of our lives!

I look at the pros and cons on going to college. I think I would really like to at times, to be successful, to finally be proud of myself, to finally have accomplished something. But the more I look at it, the more that fear grows. What happens if I flunk out? What happens if I don’t fit in (as if I don’t already!)? What will my parents say? That’s my problem, I think of everyone else before myself. I’d rather not take the risk and make myself not a bigger loser than I already am.

I lie awake each and every night, contemplating what I really want to do. I think about it during that “twilight area” where everything is so clear, so easily understood. The time when my head spins the fastest, but I can comprehend everything I think. It’s hard for me to explain, hell, I don’t even know what I’m explaining. I get that moment of clarity that says, “That’s it! I want to…” but then unconsciousness hits me like a mountain goat. With a “crack”, it’s proverbial horns shatter my composure and I lose every thought I had just had, and fall into a nerve-racking sleep.

I want to write, that, without a doubt in my mind, is number one on my list. Writing, cooking, and history, those are my top three career choices. I know I have to go to school for them, but it’s comprehending that everything isn’t as difficult as I think it is that gets me. I could sauté beef and onions and write a poem at the same time. Move over Rachael Ray, I can multi-task!

The other thing that stops me from making a sound decision is how much I am pushed. Mentally, not even if it is implied, I still feel that way. Even if someone says they aren’t pushing me, I can’t help feel it. The look on the faces on my family would kill me if I flunked out of college. That is why I don’t want to take that chance. If I lose my family I lose everyone. Even though I feel like I’m some kind of freaking puppet, being pulled every-which-way to do what they want me to, I still hold their opinions above all others.

This is my life though, right? Why shouldn’t I be able to make the decision soundly? The answer falls limply from my mouth, like a penny dropped from the Empire State Building. It falls and falls. When it stops it is lost. That’s my life. I lose control of my own existence. I’m a coward. I want to become a writer, but I am too scared to take the chance. I’m a loser. Who cares if I go to school or not? In ten, twenty, even thirty years I’m still gonna be plain old annoying Stephen Hedges. The one who girls fear and loathe, and the one who can’t keep a friend for more than a day cause his mouth runs on and on. I don’t even know why I was made, its just more money for my parents to sink into college, into a career that will go nowhere.

However, I have been told that I am already at a college level mentally. That is the one thing, the one hope I hold onto, about seeking a higher education. I can be myself, finally. I could easily get into an in depth philosophical conversation about how we are merely pawns in an advanced game of chess and the other person would be right there with me.

I think I would enjoy college. I really do. I want to go, but then I weigh it to what could go wrong and I get a headache from the confusion. I may go to college, but then again, I may not. I really can’t give a sound answer. I am still always going to be the waste of space known as Stephen. College or not, that stays the same. College or not, my decisions aren’t easy. If I had to give a yes or no answer right now, I’d hand you and “IOU”. Sorry, its just one of the things that makes me, me. I speak my mind and stick with it.