So I suppose this little exert is to state that I am 30 and I am starting a whole new life, by myself, with my bear. I have three bags bursting full of stuff. I left two men that love me with their whole heart and I feel endlessly terrible about it. I feel selfish but I'm not sure what to do with that guilt. Just half a year ago I was looking at wedding rings with my boyfriend of 2 years and now I'm back to just me and the bear. I threw away a third of my belongings, the other third I gave away and the rest of the third is scattered everywhere that I will never remember. Years from now I will pick up all those derelict scraps and wonder why I had kept them for so long. Cards three years removed crammed into sweaters eight years forgotten. Another life that I never remembered living. A distant past that i get glimpses of, flashes of old smiles and roads I remember taking with my feet kicked out the window humming a beautiful song. So i'm looking at the present now wondering if the future will give me some more wonderful things, I've already had so many of those. Do i get more or is there some sort of bank of amazing that runs dry after you've dismissed your third wonderful man for no good reason. I look at that future and wonder if i'll have kids in three years or maybe two, maybe a husband? Life was never about that I suppose. I was always hoping for more.
So here I stay, waiting to board a plane, with my book and the bear, hoping for more.
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