I remember when my AP English teacher asked us that. It's the line that opens Hamlet and he had asked us to free write from it, from our perspective now and from the perspective of a person during that time period in which the play is set. I remember it so clearly because I remember writing something that ended up being a bit existential at the same time as being a lot philosophical. I'm playing it over and over in my mind but find that the answer has somehow changed without my realizing. Or maybe its because of my realizing that its changed. Most likely it is because I've changed. Two years older now from when I wrote that page in response to "Who's There?" My thoughts on life are a lot different, my spirituality is in flux, and my political beliefs are a little more cemented.
I have conversations now about God and ask a lot of Why. Why must it be this way, Why do I do that or like this? I am at a stage where I am finding myself. its harder than I thought it would be. I almost feel like a thirty year old woman from those novels who goes and decides to change herself and in the end finds love and happiness and so on and so forth, rather than the nineteen year old college student who still lives at home that I am. I find that I have been defined by others for so long that I don't know how to define myself. And I know it all sounds just this side of depressing and a lot of self pity involved. Maybe, maybe not. Either way it is what it is.
Like last semester, in my Human Sexuality class, we had panels. Three in total, each separated by gender and sexual orientation. We asked/ were asked questions, and we answered honestly or in some cases not so honestly. Of course we were given the option of passing on a question. And when some asked me (and another girl) why we were still virgins, I froze for a second. In that second it felt like hours. Why? I flashed back to all the quasi sexual encounters that i had had or thought about. I remembered the promise i made to myself freshman year that I would lose my virginity by age 17 because 'that seems like a good age to.' I remembered then that i couldn't wait for my 'Prince Charming' my 'White Knight' and everything else to sweep off my feet for that. I couldn't wait. And each time I thought I was ready for that I would freeze. Ice would grip my heart and my legs would close up tighter than Fort Knox. And at each time something would happen that would prevent it. He didn't have protection, I didn't have protection, we didn't love each other. But it would be fine and we'd move on, him to someone else and me to my books. By the time I turned that special 17 it hadn't happened and my world hadn't ended. Then I thought about maybe I should just wait for marriage and the thought didn't appeal. But I did decide to have a period of self imposed celibacy. No fumbles which a cute boy I wasn't really invested in for a relationship. I had decided to wait for my White Knight. This waiting thing is difficult. But I never told my class this, what I said was. "I'm not actively waiting for marriage. I'm going with the flow, if it happens great, awesome even. But if it doesn't for a while I'm not going to cry about it." It isn't that much different, but it was still a mask, a lie. I was afraid to be honest even to this group of mostly strangers, maybe especially because of that. All I know now is that, I still haven't answered back, "I am here." Because I don't know yet.
