Thinking of the past, will it ever get old? Please understand, it’s just the way that I cope. I am not as sad as I appear, and when I say things are fine, they are. When you read these words, it’s true that I do miss you, but it’s also true that I have let go to the expectations. But the past, well, the past remains as it was and sometimes I like to visit there.
The mind is a vessel for time-travel, even when I am here, sometimes I am not. And for moments, so brief as they are, I travel far to New York City, to the country land in Dominican Republic, to the hallways of my elementary school, the lunch room table, the basketball courts. Memories of when I made my first three point shot, and it was one of the first times my mother walked with me to the ball park. She didn’t ever have much time for that. But I forgive her. That day meant everything to me.
Sometimes when I travel there, I think of how I would like to give my younger self a hug. Not advice, but emotional warmth. These are the things I feel I desperately needed, and still do to some extent. But when I write these words, they are expression of what boils inside.
I realize most people get only a glimpse, and what I show on instagram or facebook. But how I really feel, what I really experience, well, that is a mix of joyous moments, and sad, lonesome times. But it’s as well balanced as I could have hoped for, because in honesty I sometimes sigh in relief when I am able to drive alone, or read a book, or visit my favorite coffee shop with a book in tow.
Tomorrow, I want to go for an early run, but I don’t care if I don’t. I’ll be ok with not doing so, and just experiencing what life brings to me. Maybe a cup of tea would be nice, soothing, relaxing. Among other things, life’s promises seem endless. July, and the second half of the year approaches. I’ve read about 17 books!
So my goals, read for fun, grant yourself a break, embrace your self and your fate. Let the rest of the cards fall where they may.