It’s cause of these things
What a weird weekend. The infighting. The outfighting. The tension. The parents. The issues with all the thinking. All the wishing things would go back to normal. Sigh. For a blogger, it seems I can’t communicate for shit.
I was happy to have the time with mom and dad. I miss them and it’s good to catch up.
Being something other than a child is hard to get used to. It’ll be three years since my flight from home in a couple of weeks, which is a small number symbolizing a lot of time… I keep thinking about the nature or time. I keep slipping back behind the eyes of former versions of myself, remembering how the days I lived were taken one at a time and I never looked forward to this point in my life, but somewhere beyond it. Something easy to imagine- a desk job, a family. Seeing the world with my sweetheart alongside. Never this middling period. It could be argued that I was wishing my life away but no, I was just looking toward the next predictable stage.
I feel so weird when I think of childhood memories- some of them are so lucid and it’s such an odd thing to pause and note the measures of a younger me and how a decade seemed like an eon and how I was too busy being twelve to think about being twenty-one. Am I spending too much time now living in the past? Is it to figure out where I’m going? It’s a viable concept.
I’ve seen a couple movies where people from the future go visit themselves as children and it seems like all they tell those former selves is “don’t worry. everything is going to be all right. everything is going to work out fine.” And I was thinking about that, too, that I wish that could happen. That some beautiful woman with red hair, great shoes and the slightest shadow of crow’s feet would stop me on the street and whisper softly in my ear the beauty is just beginning. Everything is going to be all right.
