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.