Won’t mother children and can’t care for pets. Everything crumbles.
I remember the first time I saw the spark behind your eyes. It was one of the many late nights we would fight back sleep to feel alive. We would find ourselves in circular conversations, starting on one topic and most always following a strange calculation bringing us back to the starting point. I would sit back, timid, yet entertained as you rambled on. Your face would light up the moment a new idea surged over you, eccentric and excited. One night, somewhere between the hours of two and three, you told me of your dreams of being an author, you painted a picture of how this would affect your life. You wanted to grow old and happy, you even teased the idea of growing a long, wizardly beard; a purple one at that. I think that night was supposed to be the catalyst of something beautiful and bountiful.
Now, we are unhappy. There are certainly no late night conversations or purple beards. Barely a spark inside your smile, and that is obvious. I see you begin to smirk at my jokes, and then release the muscles around your mouth. A conscious effort to stop yourself from smiling at me. I am most certain you want to be happy with me and vice versa, but where have we disconnected?
Been a long time coming and I know it’s time for changes. The day I chose to over reflect, I decided to be cold and demanding. The same day, I find out friends of friends have passed and everyone’s not truly out to get me. I can’t change being empathetic toward others or wanting to nurture people so maybe it’s time I change my location. I think I’ve maxed out my zen based on where I am in life and who I choose to be surrounded by. Maybe a pause on responsibility and life would help readjust my perspective.
Last night was sorta cool. First time I’d set off a metal detector and the door guy joked about there being a gun in my bag. Shit, you don’t know me. Or what’s in that sack.