Two Meggans, constantly at war with one another
A wise man once told me that there are two different Meggans co-existing in my body and they're constantly conflicting: polite, shy, conservative Meggan and naughty, bold, wild Meggan.
Polite, shy, conservative Meggan tucks her napkin neatly when she's eating and accepts compliments graciously. She doesn't know when someone's flirting with her, and keeps her responses to scandalous questions respectable and mysterious. She takes care when grooming and dressing, she watches out for everyone around her. She maintains a meticulous study and training schedule so that she can get good times on races and good grades on papers. She's a voter, a writer, a neatnik and a planet-lover. She's been called emo. She needs, loves and adores her friends.
Then there's bold, naughty, wild Meggan. She is frequently inappropriate and obnoxious. She capitalizes on her looks, blurts out her thoughts even when not a little tipsy, and watches out for herself at the expense of everyone else. She's been called cold and logical - multiple times - and she's most likely to be caught swilling vodka at a concert, wearing a short skirt and high heels, and riding a motorcycle. She can outdrink, outcuss, and outflirt anyone - and she's no tafraid to talk cars or shoot guns. She'd gladly turn in a paper late if it allows her more time to sleep or see friends. She is painfully independent.
I don't see why both Meggans can't coexist peacefully. The entire human race struggles with a dichotomous spirit: we want so badly to be everything we'resupposed to be, but it doesn't always happen. The real Meggan is a fair combination of Meggan 1 and Meggan 2. I can't not have a few too many drinks every now and then, just as I can't go more than a few days without a run or abike ride. The secret is finding the balance.
Perhaps that's why it's difficult for me to believe that the ideal mate forme could ever exist. Would he fall in love with wild Meggan and then be dissapointed when simple, sweet Meggan wanted to stay in, do laundry and homework on a Saturday night? Or would he adore schoolteacher Meggan in her conservative sweater and glasses, but be petrified by the self-assured swagger of bold Meggan in her short skirt? Neither would work - nourish one Meggan and reject the other at the expense of the whole.
Or maybe I just haven't fallen in love with the whole Meggan myself.
So here I am, pounding down the pavement well before daylight, relishing the solitude and determination, all the while feeling the familiar pang of uncertainty and the churning of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Maybe if I just clear my mind, the answer will eventually appear.