Iced Out

Harper

    The lens.

    I can't exactly explain it, but the lens might be an extension of my eyes.

    Nobody would agree with me, because nobody in my friend group gets it like I do; they're too busy with their own stuff. But I see their stuff too; I know their stories because I have the lens. It's a blessing and a curse, but I see everyone for who they are and what they can do for me.

    I see exactly what people see me as. A narcissist, a stuck-up, an attention-seeker, an egomaniac, whatever people care to say. I know I should change, but it's so dang hard when I'm riding a high I don't want to get off of. I don't want to change.

    My name is Harper Sterling, and I'm a photography major at the University of Washington. I'm 20 years old, and I don't know anything about life. That's probably why I'm writing this book. I want to explain just how little I know about where my life can go and what I can achieve. I want to know how low I can stoop, and I want to have it documented.

    My whole life has been documented.

    I guess that's why I want to become a photographer. I want to capture everyone's feelings at a specific point in time. I want to capture a story that can only be explained by pulling out your phone and saying "hey, look at this". Because I get that. I get that people need to connect through documentation, because we can't all live the same life. There's nothing more beautiful than individual life. It's ironic that I'm saying this, because my friends would think I need a lesson in just how individual every person is. They probably hate me.

    Alice is a dance major. She couldn't possibly be more different than me. For one, she's not a virgin. At ALL. Alice is the most gorgeous human on the planet, and she definitely knows it. I'm not gonna slut shame her, because that would be doing a disservice to how incredible of a person she is. She's one of the kindest people I know. When my mom passed away from brain cancer, she was the first (and only) person to talk to me about it and make sure I was okay every day since. I wouldn't wish anything bad upon her. But she probably needs a new boyfriend.

    Grace is an interesting person. I can't really say much bad about her, because she is my friend, and that would be shitty of me to act like we haven't known each other for about six years. But she just doesn't get things. That "it" everyone doesn't get that I was talking about earlier? "It" is my life.

    "It" is me missing a month of college because my mom died and I didn't know how to properly process emotions when someone close to me was just gone. People told me to get over it. Death is plainly a sign of life.

    "It" is me pushing away all of my friends because I felt like they were bringing me down. I didn't realize that you need other people to feel happiness. "You're stupid, Harper, for thinking you can live on your own."

    "It" is me not being able to keep a boyfriend for more than a month. It hurts everytime I do it, but I have to cut ties with anyone I get too close to. It's just a part of me. They say I need to commit.

    Clearly I talk too much.