October

By Lena Fine

In October, I took a lesson in being a bit of a bad person. I wanted to indulge in myself, embrace being selfish. There was something that felt so dangerous about it all, like if I allowed myself to just act on my own accord, the ground would crack open, and I’d be swallowed by my own personal hell. Obviously, this did not happen; life is seldom so dramatic. The long and the short of it was that I went for things I wasn’t sure would pan out, I let myself be a little messy and make mistakes without vilifying myself for them. It’s a really hard thing to do, to let yourself be selfish. I realized the value of time, the beauty in fleeting moments, and got really sick of watching them pass me by. I began to realize that sometimes I don’t need a reason to do things other than that I simply want to. I wanted to boil down my life; I’d spent far too long letting things get away from me, convoluted in a space that existed above my head. I think it’s really important to give a lot of yourself. October taught me that you’ll have nothing left to give if you don’t save some for yourself.

I realized I was in the horrible habit of waking up everyday and punishing myself for some gross obstruction of morals I had decided on. When I thought about it more, I realized I simply didn’t have the authority to be making myself feel so bad. Who put me in charge of my own mind and ethical code? Maybe that’s a more tricky question, but the sentiment was the same. Who am I to torture myself for things that are only as bad as my head makes them out to be? I think there was something in wanting to be selfish that I thought would allow me to get to know myself again. What do I actually think is ‘bad’, and why?  

Is it ever alright to be a bad person? To think of yourself before others, even if just for a while? I found joy in forgetting about other people. It sounds horrible, and maybe it is, but I’ve simply been having a lot more fun doing things for the sake of my own interest than anyone else’s. In a small way, I think it’s important to fill my days with little joys that feel completely my own. In a big way, I think it’s important to remember that eventually I’ll come to the end of my life hoping desperately that everything I did was made better because I wanted to do it. I wanted to eat the peach, so I did. It was sweet and messy, but I was all the better for it because I hadn’t wasted any more time wondering what it would taste like.