All I have been doing today is sleeping, eating pancakes and thinking about you and knowing you are not thinking about me.
The last part wasn't fun.
It was driving me down right crazy.
And just when I was about to become extremely upset, you go and prove me wrong and make me smile.
It's pretty ridiculous.
In a funny, kinda messed-up way.
Oh well.
At least I can see the humor in situations like this.
I like to plan.
I'm a planner.
A creature of habit, if you will.
When I make friends, it's because I have found the perfect spot for you in my plan and it allows the friendship between us to blossom and grow and I like it like that.
But don't get me wrong, I love being spontaneous and I'm always open to going on adventures.
It's just the anomalies that get me.
I'm looking at you, kid.
The anomalies are the people who get under my skin in a very awkward way and don't actually have a spot designated for them.
They are just sort of there.
Like a weed, but nicer to look at and easier to be around.
Still, there is an urge to pluck you out and toss you away.
But I don't want to.
I'm starting to like you where you are and slowly but surely I'm moving things around so you can fit too.
It might be a little uncomfortable for a while, though.
I don't mean this, in a mean kind of way.
More like a way of "how the hell did you get past the defense system of my plan without me noticing?"
It's actually a pretty strange place to be in.
Because I feel an odd sort of fondness for you.
I think that's why I'm still talking to you.
And why I still consider you a friend.
I've been thinking of the future a lot recently.
Where I can see myself in ten years.
Will I be happily married and have screaming ankle biters for children?
Or will I be working, working, working until the day I die?
I wish I could just glance into the future.. for even just a moment.
I don't want to stay... I just want to see what it looks like.
Just so I could have some sort of idea of where I'm supposed to be headed.
If I'm going to be happy.
Or lonely forever.
Or is the future subjective?
And it wouldn't matter if I saw it or not because it will change with every decision I make.
Is fate real or do we make our own destinies?
I would like to have it both ways I think.
I create my own destiny, but some things are set in stone no matter how much I deviate from it.
I like to think it gives me a bit of a pre-determined foundation.
And in someways, it's comforting to think about.
Anyway, I would just like a peek.
One single glance.
Another question that likes to plague my mind is, how will I know when my "future" has arrived?
How will I recognize it?
What does a "future" even look like?
Because I could potentially share my life with someone, will I be able to determine the "future" as even mine or that person's?
Would it matter since we are sharing a life or "future" anyway, and it doesn't belong solely to either of us?
What is a future?
Will I like it there?
Is it a place or a state of mind?
Is the weather nice there, or will I need an umbrella?
I have so many questions I almost feel like a little kid again constantly asking, "why?"
I just want to be prepared.
It's that whole planner mentality again.
Then I literally Stumble Upon this little gem:
"The longer you wait for the future, the shorter it will be."
Oh my...
It was like God was trying to tell me to calm the hell down before I have early death.
This is what I love about life.
The littlest surprises that just pop up and make me smile.
And right now, I'm not all that worried about the future anymore.
When it comes, it comes.
I may not see it or I may be able to pin point it.
And no matter how what, no one is ever prepared for it.
It just happens, so let it happen.
There is no use rushing it, because the journey to it will pass me by.
And the journey is probably gonna be the best part.
p.s. I found another poem that I really liked:
Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
- Mary Elizabeth Frye
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