I love that no one comments on my blog. It makes me feel as though I can write with utter immunity. I'm fairly certain only two people read my blog on a regular basis, and they BOTH make a point of calling me when I write something obnoxious - something that seems like to occur tonight.
First - there are a few precious moments in life that we will always remember with absolute clarity. Remembering where you were and how you felt and the feelings you had leading up to that moment and the things you did and the thoughts you thought and the words you spoke and so many details. If you're really lucky, part of that moment is on video and you can relive it any time you damn well please. I relived one of those moments tonight - a really happy moment. It happened at my parents house. Shortly after my 25th birthday. With all the members of my immediate family present. A very good moment with so many happy tears. It reminds me of other, related moments, when I shared such happiness with my friends or other relatives. An almost bittersweet happiness.
Which brings us to "second" - It's nice to feel happy for others. But lately, when I feel that happiness, it's tainted with this horrible pang of knowledge that that happiness will never be my happiness. (Cheer up, emo kid.) But seriously, it's like - you know, that's so amazing and happy and wonderful for that person, but it kind of sucks that I will never have that. Sort of like watching someone else win the lottery but much more close to home because the things I want seem much more tame than a sliver of paper worth $57 million. Buried deep down under that jealousy (yes, I know that these feelings are feelings of jealousy...), are some remnants of hope that someday I'll get what I want But I think ultimately I won't. I think I've been given many benefits and advantages in life and I've lived a relatively easy life, and, in the end, I think that's all I'm allotted, all I deserve, and all I can hope to ask for.
Karma's a bitch, sunshines.
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