Road not taken?
Stories not written or finished?
Things meant to be that never happened?
A year ago I was getting ready to make my way to Alaska. What is the relationship between then and now? How does all of this work, how does it fit together? Does it?
Is it really as simple as “life makes no fucking sense, it will hurt and you should get used to it?”
Here I raise a glass to lost love, the saddest thing in a human’s life, and perhaps the thing that most colors every memory and every lonely afternoon. Nostalgia is just another word for “the people you decided to miss when you could have had them next to you all along.”
I am clearly tired of living this way. Please, can we hit 40 already, or 50, or whatever age causes us to slow down, give up on idealism and ambition, and have lives and families? God knows we could fucking use the break. And I think we’ll make good citizens, good parents, and good spouses, too, if we can just get there.