Naturally, I was disappointed when I found out he had a girlfriend and, yes, I was a little jealous of her.


Okay, a lot jealous.


Like, a lot lot.


But that was five years ago and, while I still find him undeniably attractive, I had no choice but to move on from my unrequited crush when I realized that absolutely nothing would come of it.


Adam is the committed, relationship type; a thing I both admire and lament because I’m not the one he’s committed to.


Well…used to lament.


Those days are long behind me, thank God.


I continue to eye him for a moment. He looks…stressed; a lot more than usual. And quiet.


“You okay?” I ask against my better judgment.


He turns to me, seeming surprised, his brows arching briefly.


“Y-yeah,” he smiles, somewhat awkwardly, but the warmth in his dark brown eyes makes it endearing, somehow. “Just got a lot on my mind.”


But he doesn’t go any further.


I’m tempted to ask him if he wants to talk about it, but I decide against that. I can tell something’s wrong, that he’s holding back, but I don’t push. Prying is not on my to-do list today.


Plus, keeping my emotional distance from Adam is what helped me get over my feelings for him in the first place. And after how much time and effort that took, I’d like for it to stay that way.


So, I decide to do what I came to do, instead; mind my own damn business.


My focus shifts to jump-starting a week-long rally against offshore drilling on the Pacific coast. It’ll be one of many I’ve participated in but the first I’ve ever organized—and my very first volunteer project for the new year.


I scan the cramped space, feeling a small wave of both sadness and nostalgia as I stare at the repurposed furniture backed up against chipping, pastel walls.


Coming to terms with the fact that this is going to be my last semester in this old little office is bitter-sweet. I really love it here. Even though it’s still a tad run-down and could certainly use an upgrade, its unique setup imparts a certain character I’ve become quite fond of, and a part of me wouldn’t change any of it for anything.


Okay…maybe the windows could use some blinders and the ceiling could stand to be slightly higher.


Still, my sentiment holds. This office and the people who’ve been in it have been a major part of my life for so many years.


But, while I’ll miss it, I know that growth in life involves change; which is what I want my final months as an undergrad to be all about. 


Real change.


My sole New Year’s resolution.




I glance at my watch, my shoe dangling from my foot impatiently. Just under two hours have passed by the time I’m done with the initial outline and all the preliminary paperwork. I still have a ways to go and countless details to sort out but I decide to leave those for another day, feeling too out-of-it to keep going. At the same time, this weird restlessness I can’t seem to shake off won’t let me call it a day just yet. 


Switching gears, I pull out my laptop, opening up a customized editor, my fingers settling on my keyboard as I stare at the blank screen.


A small rush of excitement hits me even though I’ve done this so many times before, like riding your favorite bike on a new route.


It’s still hard to believe that something I started only two years ago has exploded into this; one of the top-ranked environmental blogs on the web. And to think its creation was for nothing more than documenting a few thoughts, firsthand experiences and personal musings on the environment.


I honestly never thought any one else would read it, let alone care about my opinions or what I had to say.


Again, a byproduct of controlling, repressive parents.


But someone did read it. And another, and another, and before I knew it, I had readers visiting my blog every single day, sending me messages and asking when the next post would come. Leaving comments about how much more they now know because of my publications. How much they enjoy my delivery as much as my message. How I’ve inspired them to be more health-conscious. More aware of their role and impact on the planet. What they put both in and on their bodies and how it affects them both short and long term. The way the revolution of the food industry has shaped the current health crisis in the West and how it’s extending to the rest of the world. Etcetera. Etcetera.


On a whim, I start typing, deciding on a slightly more…eccentric post; one that speaks to my—admittedly underdeveloped—poetic side. One a lot less conventional and scholastic than I’ve penned so far.


Then again, I did say I want change. And what better place to start?


I title it:


If the Earth were a guy



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