All Write, Already!

I'm making up.

All my life I've been making up.

When I was little, I was making up imaginary friends in imaginary places doing imaginary things. When I was in school, I was making up stories about how cool my family or my life was. (Which was perhaps a bit of foreshadowing because my life was pretty okay at the time - though it got much, much worse.)

Then I failed out of college and spent the rest of my life, to date, making up for my shortcommings. Paying bills, mostly debt that was incurred when I couldn't make up for my own expenses. Sometimes making up reasons to justify the purchases that served to keep me sane. (Like a computer, so I could talk to people online.)

Then I was making up plans, making up for lost time, and making up lines on my resume to get a job.

Then I got to school, and was making up exams, more excuses, and somehow slapping together my AA.

Now I'm sailing up the windward side of this monster wave I'm on, trying to surf on the back of it, hoping to ride it out before I ride right off of it.

All for the sake of making up who I am, in the end.