Going Home

The coming is sweet misery. How many more times to I have to say hello before I no longer have to say goodbye? How often do I get to revisit the places and people I love, before leaving again?


Here I go again, swimming in melodrama and playing at pretending that I am someone I am not. Fact is, who I am and what I do have never really been in total sync, and I imagine it’s the same for most people out in the world today. You do what you have to do, what you’re good at and you make your way along, doing the best you can and being the best you, you can be. We all take our lumps and win our share of bright and shiny days. It’s the long stretches of nothing where life lives and the clock ticks at its fastest pace. Time, in and of itself is meaningless. What matters is what you do, and how long it takes or the path you take is secondary to the point: take the adventure. Try to challenge yourself and become something that you thought was not possible. Life is a happy cab driver who, if allowed, will take you to the most amazing places. As its passenger, it’s up to you to see how much beauty you can create during your short time in the car.

Today, I fly back to my girls. It’s Oct. 20, and I have been away from them for two weeks. Time away like that is a slow, insidious heartache that grows with each day that ticks by without their essence around me. For a few days I will be spending my time hanging out and being, well, me.

The rest of the time is just the shit you have to pick up so you can be those things.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *