I am...

I'm incapable of vulnerability, but I'm an open book.

I'm insecure, but I'm cockily confident.

I'm not conceited, but I'm too proud.

I'm tolerant, but I'm easily irritable.

I'm demanding, but I'm low maintenance. 

I'm headstrong to a fault, but I'm able of concession. 

I'm outwardly emotionless, but I'm inwardly sensitive.

I'm not a believer in love, but I'm a hopeless romantic.

I'm not overtly religious, but I have faith.

I'm honest and straightforward, but I actively avoid truths.

I'm desperate for the future, but I'm haunted by my past.

I'm a social butterfly, but I'm a lone wolf.

I'm full of worry and pain, but I'm momentarily carefree.

I'm lacking in focus, but I'm endlessly passionate.

I'm a product of countless disappointments, but I believe in goodness.

I'm cynical and pessimistic, but I'm hopeful.

I'm perpetually jaded, but I'm full of youthful exuberance.

I don't know who I am, but I like to think I might.  At 22 though, who really has any idea of who they are.  I hate the idea that college is the place where we're expected to "find ourselves," the period of time where we're supposed to figure it all out.  I spent all my years in college searching for myself.  The convoluted structure I maintained before college put such limitations on my ability to soul-search, that once I started I didn't really know where to begin.  I was an athlete, I had a complicated family dynamic, and I didn't know how to open up to anyone.  

Upon moving to Los Angeles and beginning the chapter in my life labeled as "the college years," I was no longer competing, my family had split apart, and I learned to open up - though only to a select few.  My life had suddenly changed in such a drastic way that everything I thought I knew about myself suddenly disappeared and I was left longing for some self-validation.  All I wanted was to know myself and all I felt was lost.  People, in their attempts of reassurance, kept telling me that college was the time I would pick up the pieces, develop new passions, and figure out my dreams, but what I remained ignorant of is that passions and dreams are ever-changing and in constant need of revisal.  Every day the things I want and feel could be different.  Every day I am a new person.  Never am I going to be the same as I was yesterday, nor will I be the same tomorrow as I am today.

I'm a walking oxymoron, but I make perfect sense.

I'm a work in progress.

I'm unfinished.