It’s undeniable. No matter your pain, conflict, or hardship, everything will, in one way or another, eventually be okay. Time has a way of healing wounds, even the ones we haven’t realized affect us. As bitter as the prospect feels, we are able to accept it quietly within our own minds, even if we don’t acknowledge it aloud. The point is, no one denies the future. We only fear the meantime. Because knowing the serenity of your eventual situation does not console your moment of pain. It’s the transition from now into tomorrow that we struggle with. The adjustment period.
I often wonder how adulthood will feel. There are moments in which I already feel so grown up, it baffles me to think anything could ever be different. But I’m still living in a figurative world full of “what if”s and fantasies of the future. Will I look back one morning while I’m vacuuming my living room, or watering my plants and think the thoughts and feelings that I’m experiencing right now - as real and intense as they seem to be - are silly? Will I mourn my loss of innocence and naivety? Will I still giggle at the childish humor of things? And bend the parameters of reality in my mind to fit the way I’d prefer to view things? I hope I will. I’m not sure I’d like to see the world as it really is, not when the one I’ve created is so warm and adventurous in comparison. I hope I’m never embarrassed of the feelings I have right now.
I’m thinking about the kind of life I want to live someday. They’re the kind of thoughts that I’m unclear whether or not I actually want, or if I’d be content enough to write them down somewhere, file them away, and pull them out later when life is particularly monotonous. That’s not really how I want to live my life. I don’t want to close my dreams up in a drawer, hidden in notebook after notebook for the rest of my life. I want to live things. See things. Feel things. I want all of the things I want, not just the ideas.
She pulled her feet up to rest on the dashboard, and locked her fingers under knees. Her toes were long and slender. Her nails were painted a dark, metallic gray. On the second toe of her left foot, she wore a silver, infinity toe ring. Through the windshield, the sunlight caught her toe hair, causing it to glimmer faintly. The veins slightly raised under her skin, snaked up the length of her foot in an attractive pattern. There was a freckle, faded by time and growth, on her left heel.
I’m feeling really brave within my own head. Brilliant, eloquent, courageous words have flooded my mind. If I release them, I will undoubtedly get exactly what I seek. My lips quiver, threatening to part and let them spill out. Alas, I cannot do it. Brave enough to have the thoughts, but never enough to share them.