We had a quick flirt with spring the past couple of days. Snow melted and temperatures hit the mid 70’s in New England; a record high. Every time the seasons changed and the days got longer, I used to get a swing of emotions, a mile melancholy. It’s a quick rush of warmth and relief. I left work and as I was walking to my car I could smell the scent of dirt and vegetation; a clear sign that summer is near. The sun was burning and shining bright after so many short and dark days. I got a chance to roll down my window and roll up my sleeves. The breeze was just right. Almost a nostalgic moment that gave an uncontrollable smile on my face,
But it’s a fake. Unfortunately the turn of seasons has a different meaning for me. It’s a warm feeling and a sense of energy that needs to be spent. The mood turns right but the environment does not change.The hot desire to go out and have a cold gin and tonic underneath patio lights meet a harsh reality. Unfortunately there’s nobody to share it with. No one to answer a call for an outdoor activity, a drink in a patio or even a quick game of soccer.
There’s nothing wrong about wanting to all these right? Why can’t I just step out and do as I please? A question without an answer is better not asked at all. Instead I got home and poke stand outside on the balcony with a blank stare. It’s just a complicated answer. I’d rather just stand here and let the fog swarm my brain than having to face my problems. I don’t have the contacts and friends. I don’t like trying new things. I don’t like being around people, while simultaneously I need to. I want the attention but hate giving it back. Everything about socializing it’s a long standing commitment, a chore. It’s a never ending bind with imaginary rules.
How could anyone enjoy enjoy a warm evening breeze with all this chatter?How could anyway enjoy a cold IPA, while thinking of the worst?I realize that what I’m holding is just a bottle with a few sips of water in it. I go back inside in front of my laptop under the incandescent light.
Categories: The path