Tuesday, October 9, 2012

It usually doesn't rain in southern California

And I've been thinking about forever.

At almost twenty-eight, I often can't believe how fast time passes, and how much happens. A reminder that you do eventually get over everything, sometimes old friends and old lovers simply become people you used to know, and somehow it's okay. I've learned that sometimes love is not enough for everything else, and though letting go is the hardest thing, for in the those moments when you can't help but miss everyone and every place you used to love so deeply, it's one of the things we must find the strength and courage for. Ultimately, the choices I make today, will alter the course of this life, and it's never going to be too late to get things right.

the former years

"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera

At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.

At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.

At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.

At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.

At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.

At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.

At twenty-seven, I learned how hard it is to let someone love you, how hard it is sometimes to live this life right by yourself, by others, and how, even when we should know better, sometimes, sometimes it's not enough. And in moments when I want to settle, when I simply want to give up, how vital it is that I remember what all of this was for. I'm learning, it seems, the older I get, the more blurred the lines between right and wrong become, and the harder it is to believe anything is possible. But there are still those moments that take my breathe away, a kind word from a stranger, an unusual note of affection from a friend. And the weight of belief, the weight of faith, and for everything we can't control, how living is the essence, it's the only thing we have control over.

Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.

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