Tonight I’m letting myself feel. For the first time in a while I’m trying looking at my life; staring into the sun, looking down the barrel, and letting myself hurt. Not because anything bad has happened suddenly, but because I’m being wedged, and have been so for a long time. What I wanted my life to be is becoming more and more impossible, and things I never wanted are overwhelmingly persistent to the point of being unavoidable. As I split I’m being pushed towards the unwanted future I saw from far away and promised myself I’d never have to accept.
Life has become a melting, dissolving, and evaporating of my dream that I would be someone special. I think what it takes to be “someone special” varies from person to person, but what is universal is our tendency to only allow ourselves to feel special through something that brings us happiness.
So when I think about what makes me happy I come up with things like helping my Grandma bring her groceries in so she doesn’t have to lift heavy bags, or doing the dishes in the sink even though it’s the last thing I want to do, knowing someone will see a clean kitchen and think “Thank God.” I just want to make moments for the people I love where life does the opposite of disappointing.
What is happening is my dreams are dying, or at least the energy I have to believe them is being removed with nothing to replace what was once there. And I feel more and more shocked at how wrong I was or how grossly cruel it was every time the world said to dream big.
I told my brother in the car tonight, “It seems like I should be having these thoughts when I turned 50.” Like my mid-life crisis came early, and I wish I had 26 more years to whole-heartedly or foolishly believe my future was some grand mystery. But I don’t feel that awe anymore about what comes next. Because too many days have been the same, so I already know.
What I’m not ready to do is give up, and that sounds like a good thing because it keeps me going, but that stubbornness is what is defeating me at the same time. Because I don’t believe I’m holding out for a better future, but holding out and clinging to a lie, and even though I believe it is a lie I’m not ready to let go of it yet.
And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wait until I feel so negatively until I have to write, and I’m sorry this is the kind of writing I’m putting out for people to read, but it’s what I have right now.
I escaped to the movies tonight because movies are 2 hours where a screen does it’s best to take you away to a better place. I watched “X-men: Days of Future Past,” and one moment in the movie held me in my chair in a single thought as the movie left me and moved forward. Future Magneto pleads with his former self, “Hope. Please Charles, we need you to hope again.”
And it felt like it was a message for me. A plea that I needed to hope again. And I’m not going to end this nicely because I owe myself better than that, because I don’t know what to hope for. That is the ending that you get.