I remember being 23 and feeling like I had all the answers. I was a year away from being a Civil Engineer, smiled a lot, thought I knew exactly what I wanted. 33 seemed like a lifetime away but when I saw 33 I saw a wife, a couple children, a career, stability. I was a “good guy,” you know the type. Never in any trouble, parents liked me, always did what was right. I was happy but it’s hard to explain what happiness feels like when it was a mirage. I figment of my imagination.
I hate math, I hate numbers so why was I going to be an engineer? I hate test, I’ve never tested well but I picked a career where in order to succeed you have to take and study for countless test. It made no sense but it felt right.
Sitting at my desk at 4:30am, the house quiet, not hearing or feeling any sounds other than my fingers hitting my keyboard those 23 year old ambitions feel like a lifetime ago. Instead of building homes or bridges I build people, I use words to tell stories that I hope make someone smile, cry, laugh, get aroused, want to fight. I’m not sure I know what happy is anymore or where to find it but I know this path is where I’m supposed to be.
Nothing is happening how I planned it and that scares the hell out of me. I’m the guy that washes dishes and makes up my bed before I go to work in the morning. I pause television shows before dramatic scenes to prepare myself like I know the characters on the screen. I read novels and send personalized emails to the authors thanking them for giving the world their art.
There’s a chance I’ll never have a Christmas tree in my home again. There’s a chance my children will never know what it is to sit on the front porch with their hands over their eyes while I plug in the Christmas lights for the first time. Something I did with my grandmother since I was old enough to remember. This time of year when the leaves start to change and the weather gets cooler I feel so far removed from who I was at 23. It’s a good thing and it’s a terrifying thing.
It’s been almost a year since I’ve come home from work and walked into a house with food cooking and that smell making me miss home. There’s so many days I just sit in my driveway and wonder if this is where I’m supposed to be. No one knows my innermost thoughts. People would rather group chat or text or be on social media than sit on the back of a truck drinking a beer or whiskey and talking about life. I hold my secrets and fears close to my heart because that’s the world we live in.
Questioning if I’m any better than the people that choose the love and attention of strangers on social networks just because I choose wordpress or novels. I fear for my sanity, for my health, for my happiness.
Just some random thoughts from a guy that can’t sleep and is craving a breakfast that doesn’t consist of leftover food from last night. I’ll sip this drink and go make that happen. Thanks for reading if you are.