The thing that i really love about our sessions is the trust: or, time to be released into the wild

In lectures, they tell me what I should and shouldn't do. Don't trust people; trust me, don't drink, don't speak to strangers. Horrible things may happen. Don't. Trust us, you're smart, you're all brilliant and young and independent.

I'm not even remotely interested in hearing you, ambiguous and undefined, faceless and nominal. You've said it a million times, and I'm tired of it. What I do- will happen, and I'll make my own decisions. I don't trust contradictory advice, your own contrary judgment, and you make me uncomfortable.

Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to be like you or completely different?
You say that I'm capable of making my own choices. It's only something about your voice that sounds different when you're telling me what to do.

Let me clarify.
Going is different from coming, loving is different from unhealthy obsession, and I'll do what I want and what I feel like.
I'll do what's right for me.

There is, however, considerable stigma attached to the phrase 'doing as you please'. It is considered-
immature, thrill seeking, a sign of a personality on the verge of disintegration, heedless, reckless, in pursuit of pleasure without a cautionary eye and careful hand.
I only think the flaw in it is that I trust myself too much.
I do believe, however, that the people who listen to you distrust themselves too much. I am not afraid of what may happen. It may horrify me, disgust me, fill me with hatred of the world and self loathing, but that is a different thing than being afraid of what might happen. Of hesitating. And even though I may not like the end result, I, most importantly, trust my judgment.
It is only an extension of my beliefs, of my values, and of my common sense, after all.

It's part of me. How could I not trust myself?

I think-
just because I'm young doesn't mean that I haven't been through as much emotional trauma as you, as many bad things, exposed to as much horror. It isn't indicative of what a person can go through, or the lengths to which they can suffer. It doesn't mean that I make worse choices or that I don't know as much about the end result as you do.
Then again, maybe I don't.
But maybe you've lost perspective, as a faceless, nameless lecturer, and nothing in the world will ever be the same it was 16 years ago, and that there is no one in the world more different or separate than you and me.

Maybe.

I don't want to explain myself to you.
I don't want to tell my history to you.
And at this stage of life, I shouldn't have to.
I don't want to sit here and listen to your message, take your pamphlets, pretend that you're important, so important to me. You are just one more person, with perfectly composed and rounded sentences.
You're very politically correct.
You're very clever, with smooth statements and reassuring smiles.
You're very, very bland.
You're very smug.
You're very caring.

Consider this an official rejection. Consider this my letter of resignation, to you, as one of your listeners and as one of your people and as one of just another long line of naive young women that you see so clearly and cleanly.
You and I and me and them; we are different, and separate. We are so far away from each other that we might as well be standing on different continents, staring each other down across oceans and seas.

Because that's all that separates us. A sea of faces, exactly like mine(to you).

Can I be-
almost(possibly) eating,
and settled, confident, pleased with my weight?
could I possibly be happy?
Is it unreasonable to think that I would be fine?
Really;
You should-
love me the way I am, happy the way I hate you, disliking everything about this,
as far as I don't care.
No one tells you the truth except the oldest people I've ever known.
They have nothing more to lose. They have almost nothing more to gain. They cling to life with quiet desperation. Living is so valuable, and joy is something to be treasured.
They're not always honest, but always illuminating. The truth is in their actions, you see.

You, particular you, rehash the same platitudes as always. When I return, you'll still be mouthing the same words.

Seriously-
the only one I listen to, in the end, is me.
When it comes to me, I only ask one person.
Because I'm-
sort of self-centered
and I love myself best
and I
Wouldn't hurt the person that I love the most.
Would you?