Trees or Forests

I've been thinking so much about relationships I've hit a dead end because I've gone so deep into the forest I can't see the trees.

Sometimes I just want to rage quit everything. I know ultimately it is my life and I should live it the way I want to. That I want to love and be loved and enjoy my youth and count stars and stare into the sun, just for kicks. That I want to sip on warm cups of coffee and cuddle of soft couches and a book in hand and the smell of lasagne cooking in the oven.

But even to my childish self I know it's not possible. Then I start to ask myself why. Why is it that I am so bitter without having yet reached the age of 20? Why is it that I doubt myself before I even start? Why is it that I can only cry thinking about the future, and not plaster on a stupid grin on my face like people my age should?

Can't I have dreams too? Why must you poison them? I dream of a life not unlike the one you've dreamed before. And I feel sorrow for you. But don't poison my dreams. Not yet.

Maybe in ten years I will be as bitter as you will be. But I won't let that happen to me. Because I have you to learn from, and that's the important part.

Leave me to live my own life.