Friday, November 6, 2009

Momentary Contentment

 The busyness of the week has simmered down leaving nothing for me to hide behind. No meetings and no assignments due in the morning. Which leaves time to just sit, and reflect.

These are not the Friday nights that I dreamt of in younger days. But they are mine nonetheless.

Matter-of-factly, my life as a whole is not what I dreamt of in younger days.

It's funny to say "younger days", as I am only 22. I feel much older though. I have an old-soul as my mother has said. It's hard to explain if you're not one, but I'll try.

 It's like a magnetism that pulls me to the people I need and the people that need me. It's a knowing of things that people say only life can teach. It's sensing people and feeling the weight of their  pain It's being able to see sadness in smiling eyes. It's a need to quickly move beyond the surface, to dig and get to the heart of things.

 It's a passionate, draining, lonely life. But mine nonetheless.

Thankfully, there are others like me that make cameos every now and again. If I didn't know any better, I'd believe that I'd  known them in another life.  Loved them before. There's a connection that's binding and unexplained. Their presence is always fleeting, their purpose, however, is known almost instantly: A piercing reminder that I am not alone.

But, I digress. This is about reflection. And as I sit here on this Friday night I'm content, with little thought of what's going on outside. I'm sure I'll here stories of excitement and adventure when I return to campus on Monday morning. Tales of new loves and memories that were made. And when that moment comes,  I'll probably feel that I missed out.

 I sat in the library with classmates earlier this week,  and what started as a study session quickly became a night full of girl talk. Stories were swapped and I listened without much to tell. I mean, I've got plenty to tell, but not much that fits into those conversations.

 It was an enjoyable time of bonding, but also a  realization of what I said near the end of the night, "I feel like I'm missing out." One of the girls said sweetly, "I wasn't going to say it, but yeah." Her bluntness made me laugh, despite the weight of that confirmation.

And yet, as I sit here I have no desire for excitement or adventure. For now, in this moment,  I'm okay with where I am. I'm okay with this Friday night, with this life. Because they are mine.

 And I'll deal with Monday's feelings when I get to them.


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