It’s nearly April.
April. May. June. And then—July.
Before too long, it will be a year. Time continues, in many ways, to stand still, though I know it shouldn’t and mustn’t. But a year!
What will I do on that day? How will I handle it?
— § —
There’s a good reason for the way in which society hesitates to allow young people too much responsibility, and for the way in which it considers twenty-somethings and even thirty-somethings to be “young people.”
The reason is that no matter how well-developed and how experienced you believe yourself to be throughout early adulthood, you simply haven’t had time to have learned the hard lessons until you have arrived in your late thirties and forties.
You still throw your hands up and hope. You are still naive. You are still in denial. You still think—and this is a big one—that time is on your side, and ergo, that reality is on your side.
People say that you gain “experience” as you go, but the less euphemistic way to put this is that it’s not until your late thirties or forties that you’re so tired of fuckups and suffering, and so aware of the fact that you’re running out of chances, that you finally begin to get things right.
You could have done it all along, but you just didn’t. Because how bad could it be? How wrong can it go? How many times can it go bad? You need those years to be shown that it can always be worse, it can go ever more wrong, and it can and will go bad every single time you get a little complacent.
— § —
Last year I was excited for, and hopeful about, spring. This year I’m not. I regret that this post is such a downer, but the fact is that today, tonight, I am wishing that spring had simply never arrived. I’m not ready for it and I don’t want to be ready for it.
That goes double for summer.
But reality is what it is.
— § —
Meanwhile, the weeks and months continue to sail by.
I have to cut this out.