Rest

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

It's almost impossible to communicate anymore.  I feel surrounded by people who've already heard what I have to say.  Other times, I feel that there's nothing new under the sun for me to react to.

As falsely as the latter rings under even the simplest scrutiny, I guess I'm compelled to admit that most days, I thirst for any kind of human contact.  New experiences, new feelings, new anything.  Most of the time, I find little.  Sometimes, I'm reminded to be careful what I wish for.

With the trial behind me, and two weeks of my life wholly devoted to eating, breathing, and drinking in the details of a child molestation case, I'm finally given the chance to detox and just breathe.  Breathing means thinking, and thinking means writing.  How lucky for you all!

This place that I'm in, mentally, is mostly confusing.  Ostensibly, I'm in one of my "grey" phases of life - where not much is changing, growth seems limited, and I'm given fertile ground for this sort of masturbatory philosophizing.  But in reality, the world is constantly shifting under my feet, and I'm merely slow in reacting.

If anything, I've been reminded of my good fortune.  As the holiday season approaches, I can see I've never been so surrounded with love and family.  Friendships have blossomed, sometimes with unexpected results, and for the first time in years, I feel at home with just being.  Less and less are the times when I feel I have to justify myself, my feelings, my thoughts.  More and more are the times when I feel I'm loved just for being me.  It is a good time for being wanted.

But in other ways, I feel isolated and strange.  The continued patronage of my parents' good will is wearing on me, as anyone could imagine (and has).  As awesome as they've been, a small room in a house is not my home any longer - it is a place to wait for bills to be paid, for finances to adjust, and for life to take a new direction. Dating and relationships are continuously on the back of my mind, omnipresent, but dormant.  Fall has ever been the season for these things, seeking that comforting shoulder to snooze on, that partner for dodging the cold with.  Yet, without a home of my own, I feel outmatched in that arena, and it shines through with every romantic interaction.  The desire to be known, to be understood, can be poison or panacea, and it seems to have done me few favors this fall. 

I miss Vesper.  Her laughter, her goofiness, her intrinsic knowledge of how to make life better.  I miss watching Adventure Time and playing video games with her, or just making her breakfast.  The summers are too short, and the fall and winter is when I need her most. 

As always, we make due with what we have.  It is impossible not to be grateful, not to be filled with hope for the future.  Every way I turn, I see opportunity, and friends, and chances to be better.  I will drink beer, I will watch the skies, and I will emerge from the ice and snow better than before.  Life is, of course, a hike without destination, and I have miles to go.