september 16, 2009

i wake up when i want to, although i set my alarm. i make my first cup of coffee using my mochamaster that i bought in italy and my vintage 70's tea-pot that i bought at a garage sale this summer. i wait for it to brew. i doctor it to my taste. i go back to my warm bed, and sit up with my coffee mug that reads grandpa, that i took from my grandma's house. i sip. and i ponder. and i look through the blinds to the sidewalk that leads to the world. the street. the cars. the people walking by on their way to work or coffee or the like. the trees move. and i wonder why i don't move. i wonder if my love for sitting still is normal. if its healthy.

and then it rains. slowly. quietly. just a few drops. but you can see the promise of more in the dark clouds above. and i am instantly nostalgic. its not sad. its not happy. its an in between emotion that hasn't been invented yet. but i feel it. its sweet and bitter, but not bittersweet. that's too simple a word for such a complex state. its the longing for my self, my true self. my self that i knew so well at other times in my life, that i'm struggling to find now. its the longing for the past, memories with you, with greg, with my brothers, with my grandma and grandpa.

it's those moments that i live for, when everything seems to fall into place. when nothing else matters, because this one perfect moment is existing, now. its the feeling of health, and progress, and joy, and beauty, when you see just how beautiful life can really be. and i notice these things, when the weather shifts, and the leaves start to turn their burning reds, and bright bright greens. i notice. the world comes alive, and for a moment or two i stop living. i disembark from reality, from the world, and float above, to watch. in silence. in solitude. and i love this.

i love these emotions, these feelings, these ups and downs, and silent times that force me to enter my mind. but its hard, too. because it makes me miss so many things from my past, even though not they're not far gone.

as i sit here in the public library, on broadway, surrounded by people typing and reading, and talking muddled, and hushed to one another... i realize that i am alive. that i am okay. that i miss a lot of things, and that i am sad when i let myself miss those things, those people, but that i really am okay. and that life is good. its a challenge, at times. and there are so many questions, so many things left unsaid. but its good.