It’s 3:30 in the morning.
I’m awake.
The jeans that I cried myself to sleep in have become unbearably uncomfortable, not only because of my belt digging into my mid-section, but primarily due to my heater having decided to kick the bucket. Being cold in jeans sucks.
So I join my computer in the living room where I had abandoned it some 5 hours ago. I walked out on a movie, something I rarely do. It was a good movie. I was enjoying it. But I didn’t want to handle it. My body had a physical reaction. After a weekend where my worst fears came to possibility, and the reminder of mortality ever present, it wouldn’t let me overcome it right now. Instead, I was left to deal with my own internalized pain.
Yesterday was about making my choices and having them become reality. But what happens when the world doesn’t let you make that choice? When it leaves you only to deal with the reality of a situation? Part of “The Summer of Erin” was to realize goals, even at the expense of others. That sounds horrible, self-centered and egotistical, but it’s just about taking care of me first. My parents would argue that I’ve been doing that all along, but I guess that the intentions are different now. And if people don’t like it, I have to be ready for that too.
Just because I’m closer to figuring out what I want and who I am – this idea of “content” that I described yesterday doesn’t mean I’m happy all the time. If I was happy all the time, I wouldn’t be me, I’d be a game show host. But at least I can find solace in taking some steps in the right direction, even if some days, I’m still stepping back. I figure you’re better off going somewhere, than just standing still and watching the world pass you by.
EDIT: There was a line in this song, that made me come to a conclusion: Looking at my macroworld, like I did yesterday – in terms of overall direction and situation, it looks good. But my microworld is a struggle. The daily reminders, the little things, are difficult. I’m afraid that the main theme in my microworld, my loneliness will begin to define me rather than be just a descriptor. The intimate, the personal relations, the small scale world I live in, the last year, seems to be defined by one area – the emptiness of my heart.
