Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Growing Up.

Maturity is a very fickle subject to tackle. Being a teenager, many people will probably argue that I don't have the mental capacity to effectively discuss it. But it's my blog, so the naysayers can leave. Effectively.

As far as the method in which a person matures, I tend to think it's different for everyone. I feel like maturity is the summation of past experiences and, essentially, just something you gather as you age. Some will naturally soar to heights of wisdom and understanding unreachable to most other people, while others will do the minimal amount of "growing up" necessary to survive. I don't feel that I, myself, am at either extreme. I'm somewhere in the middle, a happy and agreeable medium.

I assumed this was a good thing, assurance that I'd never encounter a relationship in which the maturity levels of myself and another person were SO vastly different that I couldn't coexist with them. 

Apparently, I thought wrong. 

Maybe when the dust settles, all the petty drama, the snide comments, and the "accidental" revelations will cease. Then, maybe something salvageable will come from all this. Maybe a relationship, maybe just a pile of hollow regrets. Regardless, I can't stop growing just to let someone else catch up.