The days are short but the years are long

 

My heart is filled with a great ache, which is nothing out of the ordinary, except that I hide it very well. Or that I have been hiding it very well, as I have hidden all my aches all my life. But tonight my ache is about how pieces of my heart are scattered all across the globe, pieces I will most likely never get back together in one place. I suppose growing pains last you a lifetime. All this to say, as I sit here and write these words, I am in fact asking for a big, warm, and possibly unending hug. What does it matter if we do or don't meet if we can't comfort each other from a distance, a distance that has no end in sight? I am here, waiting patiently, having faith.

Ah, this love-hate relationship with getting older. I keep turning inwards towards those days of innocence, doing summer homework, playing make-believe games, sharing a pillow with my mother. I am becoming one of those older people who keep repeating themselves––I have a feeling I've said all these words before, somewhere or the other. My heart, some days, is so torn between relishing the past and staying focused on the present, mostly for my daughter. One would read this and think I must really be suffering when, in fact, I am sitting in the quiet comfort of my apartment, as my toddler sleeps, my spouse is out for errands, and I have a freshly baked pizza slice laying on a plate beside me. You should be more grateful, my subconscious reminds me. But grateful I am! And yet this ache doesn't leave me.

I miss my friends, as I miss my mother. I miss my father too, sometimes. I miss my childhood. I miss those days of wanton carefreeness––the very days that when I was living through them I didn't like at all. I miss the walking alone on the highway during fall evenings when it got dark at 4 PM. I miss the walking alone in the forest as soon as the sun came up, with my favorite podcast to keep me company. Goodness, I have tasted freedom like nobody else I know has. And I can tell you that I did not much like the taste of it but here I am, sitting in this bubble of peace, thinking about that time as I get ready to go to bed. 

*    *    *

It's not getting chilly; it is chilly––and this means that it's starting to get darker earlier (the days are getting shorter). I'm usually on top of things––but right now, I seem to have lost my train of thought. What was I just saying? I ask this often, taking assistance from whomever I was speaking to to remind me what the topic was. I've become forgetful but it's really alright. Usually I remember the context later or sooner, and that's all that matters, right? I feel so exhausted sometimes and I think it may be because I need more vitamin D. I got the bloodwork done this week and while most of the results were thankfully fine, some were damning. But I'm glad I have the numbers and that I have started the work.

The state of affairs is beyond morose. We are at a frightening point in the history of time. I want to keep my loved ones close, hold them a little bit longer, take care of myself and pray, pray, pray.