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We were driving a couple of weeks ago. A quick trip into the city. It's so very close.
My children still look at it all with wonder. The tall buildings. The fancy hotels. The promise of new and exciting experiences.
Sometimes their excitement is contagious, and I feel the same way.
But is it the city that I love, or am I just fondly reflecting on my youth?
The last time I felt truly young-and-free was our trip to THE city. Just every digit and hair and pore of my body feeling ALIVE with possibility, walking the streets late at night, with my best-friend-lover by my side.
This was just before my body started to truly break down and betray me. Even the end of that trip was marked by excruciating pain that I wrote off at the time, but in retrospect was the forewarning of what was to come.
I still want so much more. I want the ability to feel that way again. I am not foolish enough to think that feeling is directly tied to youth. But what to do with an adventurous soul and a body breaking down at every turn? That is the question. I want all of the possibilities, but everything exhausts me. I end up sidelined in my own life, watching everyone else move on. I'm being proactive, don't get me wrong. It's just frustrating that progress is so slow and holds no definitive promises.
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Our existence in supremely suburban. But the city keeps reaching for us. The outskirts grow closer and closer and I know that at some point, there won't be any fields between here and there. No cows grazing. No woods. Will I want that? Is that what I miss?
No, I miss my youth. I miss a world full of endless possibilities. I miss being reckless. I miss the feeling that comes from seeing the sun rise on my way home. Heart full of memories.
But mostly I miss my old body, my old stamina, strong legs that would carry me where I need to go. A back that doesn't ache. Muscles that don't constantly rebel. Waking up feeling rested. Those are the things that I miss the most, I suppose.
1:52 p.m. - 2018-06-21
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