Jenna Berggren > Recent Status Updates

This feels like a movie. Like Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist but with drugs.

We all hate Ronan,right?

But I was beginning to understand that my guilt was futile. No matter how hard you tried, you could not care someone into becoming. You could not protect them from their life.

Maybe growing up didn't mean gaining more control but rather learning to exercise the little you already had. In any case, that's what Silver did. She ate out of dishwashers. She ran into the sea.

I wished I could return to the bright and lonely halls of my childhood and tell the girl inside them not to worry.
Somebody eventually would forgive her for leaving. Life would come for her, love would hunt her down, and even though the future would be unfamiliar it would not be un-kind.

Descending the stairs, I crossed my fingers in the hopes that something big and out of nowhere would happen, yanking me out of the trajectory of my morning. But nothing did.

I closed my eyes and wished for some third option to find me. Dots of green and violet danced beneath my eyelids. If only I could stay forever in this dark untouchable state, but life insisted on letting the light in, multiplying the colors.

I yearned to be part of his life but rejected it at the same time. He wanted me to be his equal, and I wanted to be his pet. Was that still what I wanted?

I scoffed. What I did at the law library could hardly be considered experience, unless experience meant clicking buttons as quickly as you could in some archaic web platform and picturing ways to hurt yourself with office supplies.

He let go of me and walked out of the bathroom I remained where I sat next to the tub, feeling caught and released at the same time.

The trees shed their leaves overnight. I admired this about them, that they fried in private

My guidance counselor told me my mother's neuroses had nothing to do with me, but I knew we'd be closer if only she could pick me up from school again. "She was happy once," I said. "And now she's not." To which my counselor said, "You can't prioritize her happiness over your own." I didn't know how to explain that they were the same, or they would be eventually.

I relished the rush of being looked at by someone who saw you differently, more specifically, than the rest of the world. Kissing him felt like dying and being reincarnated as a stuffed animal: inanimate, made to be loved.