There is nothing quite like watching someones head getting blown off in slow motion.
As terrible as that sounds, it's true. Part of you screams, "oh, yuck! How terrible!" and the other part is admiring the distance the glistening spray is getting. Well, you could be perfectly sane, and just stick to the "wtf" part.
(I watched Tommy play some post-apocalypse game when I went to offer my help in studying for his math test Monday. Very graphic.)
I was drama-free all but two days. I knew my mother's genes would show up someplace--my mind can't function without turning inward on itself and slapping around the voices to get them talking...
"Why the hell are you so quiet?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"We were just minding our own business, no need to shout!"
"See? Nothing major is happening, we can relax..."
"What do you mean relax? No such thing! Get your ass back to work making this girl miserable or I'll send you packing!"
"Yes! Yes, of course..."
So I stumbled off of the path of clear-headedness with a much-needed talk with my aunt, who pointed out a few things for me that I didn't expect to hear. Have fun in college? Don't worry so much about the future? It's okay to have mushy, irrational, heart-pounding emotions? They're good for you? Normal, even?
I'm faced with a decision, a choice. Take the sidewalk, where I know what's ahead for the next five miles, and where it ends, or jump the yellow and black caution signs signaling a dead end at the end of the concrete and just see what's beyond the brush, to see how far I can go without turning back. Who knows, it might be that--a dead end. I don't know. In doing so, I forfeit the right to walk the clear-cut pathway, and have to wander along the curb until I find another road. Is it worth the risk? Should I follow my heart, my nerve, and do what I know is the only thing that would make me happy? Or should I play it safe, maybe take the chance that I could learn to like the sidewalk, even though I really want to go off-roading? There are scarier things than snakes in the grass... and I'm sure the harmless looking side could easily harbor some delectable trouble in the dark spots...
But I've always done that. Taken the lighted path and hoped the uneven cracks would be enough to trip me up, to make me learn balance, to grow. Maybe I need a good dose of actual danger to bring me to my senses, make me see that I'm an idiot.
But I don't even have a flashlight... not a clue... they don't write manuals on this sort of stuff, of following your passion. What about regret? What if there's a no trespassing sign just off the gravel? I've bounded over the hurdle for nothing.
Ah, so many but's and what if's.
It seemed so simple a few hours ago on the phone...
And you know what? It probably is.
As terrible as that sounds, it's true. Part of you screams, "oh, yuck! How terrible!" and the other part is admiring the distance the glistening spray is getting. Well, you could be perfectly sane, and just stick to the "wtf" part.
(I watched Tommy play some post-apocalypse game when I went to offer my help in studying for his math test Monday. Very graphic.)
I was drama-free all but two days. I knew my mother's genes would show up someplace--my mind can't function without turning inward on itself and slapping around the voices to get them talking...
"Why the hell are you so quiet?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"We were just minding our own business, no need to shout!"
"See? Nothing major is happening, we can relax..."
"What do you mean relax? No such thing! Get your ass back to work making this girl miserable or I'll send you packing!"
"Yes! Yes, of course..."
So I stumbled off of the path of clear-headedness with a much-needed talk with my aunt, who pointed out a few things for me that I didn't expect to hear. Have fun in college? Don't worry so much about the future? It's okay to have mushy, irrational, heart-pounding emotions? They're good for you? Normal, even?
I'm faced with a decision, a choice. Take the sidewalk, where I know what's ahead for the next five miles, and where it ends, or jump the yellow and black caution signs signaling a dead end at the end of the concrete and just see what's beyond the brush, to see how far I can go without turning back. Who knows, it might be that--a dead end. I don't know. In doing so, I forfeit the right to walk the clear-cut pathway, and have to wander along the curb until I find another road. Is it worth the risk? Should I follow my heart, my nerve, and do what I know is the only thing that would make me happy? Or should I play it safe, maybe take the chance that I could learn to like the sidewalk, even though I really want to go off-roading? There are scarier things than snakes in the grass... and I'm sure the harmless looking side could easily harbor some delectable trouble in the dark spots...
But I've always done that. Taken the lighted path and hoped the uneven cracks would be enough to trip me up, to make me learn balance, to grow. Maybe I need a good dose of actual danger to bring me to my senses, make me see that I'm an idiot.
But I don't even have a flashlight... not a clue... they don't write manuals on this sort of stuff, of following your passion. What about regret? What if there's a no trespassing sign just off the gravel? I've bounded over the hurdle for nothing.
Ah, so many but's and what if's.
It seemed so simple a few hours ago on the phone...
And you know what? It probably is.
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