perspective

Alright, what's going on here. I'm financially stable, mostly healthy. I have a dream job and an awesome girlfriend, fantastic family. I have so much to be thankful for but it still feels like I'm rotting inside. It has to be my parched social life. I feel good when I'm at kung fu, interacting with the other students and on those rare occasions where I hang out with the teachers. But when was the last time somebody besides my girlfriend called me to hang out? I can't even remember.

Perhaps my problem is that I never call other people to hang out. I shouldn't expect them to always have to initiate the contact. I guess I haven't really met anyone down here who I would feel comfortable calling. There are people I'd like to hang out with but it would seem too out-of-the-blue just calling them up like that. Though maybe that's not a bad thing. Who doesn't love a surprise social call...or is that just me because I'm so socially deprived? Hoo boy. How did I get through two decades of life without figuring this stuff out. Maybe girlfriend can teach me. It's a learned skill, right? My kung fu coach told me I was a fast learner...maybe there's hope yet!

I'm going to really have to try to make a big social push in Houston. I will be a complete and utter drain on girlfriend if I can't put my life together when we get there. I don't want to be some sort of bum boyfriend who can't fend for himself in a new place. Her family seems to have this impression of me at the moment...honestly, so do I. I wouldn't want to date me right now. Things need to change.

on the side of the road

My life right now is a beautifully engineered Chevy Mustang sitting on the side of the road, looking pretty but going nowhere fast. Here I sit in my nice leather driver's seat, watching with envy as the other cars zip by. I would love to join them but the accelerator pedal seems to be stuck. I decided to pull over for a little bit and now it just won't budge.

Yet even on the road I was always cruising in the right-hand lane, plodding along at five miles below. Slow traffic keep right. It's the safest place to be, after all. I can't imagine what could possibly be gained from flooring the accelerator and living a little, taking some risks now and then. Preposterous! That sort of behavior is completely irresponsible. Those vagabonds may be smiling now, but just you wait until they're eighty years old with not a penny to their name!

But they will have memories. Can one put a price tag on a life's worth of happy memories? What will I have? Money...security, maybe. Hey remember that time when...? No, not really. Nothing ever happens. My lust for life will have flickered and died with not even a whimper while theirs will follow them to the grave. They will have a celebration of life upon their passing, but they won't be invited to my funeral because I won't know any of them.

I feel so numb lately. So discontent. It was my decision to come here and I feel I should embrace it with conviction, but what have I given up in the process? It feels as if my life is being lived for me, somewhere, in absentia. I'm missing every second of it and the seconds are beginning to add up. Love is given to me but I can not appreciate it. The love I have to give seldom manages to break through the fog. Something is desperately wrong.

I have but one life...and right now, it is broken.