We Are Nowhere And It Is Now

I woke up with a start this morning at 6 am. I squinted my eyes as hard as I could, but they rejected sleep. I looked over at my bedroom door and saw a thick glow of light along the bottom edge. My dad was of course awake, and enjoying a hot cup of coffee. I thought about how many years he has gotten up at this same exact time and enjoyed the same exact cup of coffee and the same exact newspaper, and how many times I have slept right through it. Not once have I ever gotten up to join him. But even after this realization, I still didn't feel the need to join him. I wondered about what that meant.

Just then I was cursed with a piercing headache. The middle of my forehead started to swell with pain. I squinted my eyes again, hoping it would go away. It didn't. I reached over the side of my bed to grab the pitcher filled with water, and poured myself a glass. I drank it in one swift gulp and my headache went away. "How silly," I thought.

I sat there staring at my ceiling for a good half hour or so, just listening to what was happening in the house. My mom was now awake and about to take a shower. I could hear the deep rumbling of a Harley Davidson starting up outside our house and knew my dad was just then leaving for work. The dogs started to get restless, disturbed by both the loud motorcycle engine, and the fact that my mom has chosen to get up and go to work today rather than lay in bed with them. My brother was still asleep.

While all of this was happening, I thought about my friends. I thought about the last few days I spent in San Francisco back in December, and how at the time I thought I wasn't going to miss it at all. I smiled to myself as I thought about how I went back to visit less than a month later. I thought about the last couple times I hung out with Amanda before she left for South Africa: our climb up Lone Mountain with all of her belongings in tow [all of which she would eventually lose while en route to South Africa], our trip home on the MegaBus where we almost got left behind in East Jesus Nowhere, and our great snow adventure to Gorman where we flirted with death and laughed about it like we didn't care.

I thought about Jake. I thought about how much he used to mean to me. That's about it.

I thought about the last kiss I had, how bittersweet it was and how guilty we both felt. I have felt trapped in that kiss ever since. I decided it was time for me to get out of that and forget about lost pain. I thought about how it's time for me to grow up. For 3 years, I have been the same age. Physically I have weathered well beyond my years, but mentally I have been 16 since, well, my 16th birthday. I thought about how much everyone else in my world has grown since then, and how the only thing that has changed for me is my hair color. As depressing as that may seem, it was actually a huge relief. For months now I had been wondering what the hell was wrong with me, why everything seemed to be so out of alignment, and now I know what it is.

I don't know what it was that made me wake up this morning so suddenly. Maybe my dad dropped something, maybe a book fell off my bed, maybe I woke up from a nightmare that I can't remember, I don't know. But whatever it was sent me on this sudden rush of thought, and I am forever thankful. I had one of those clear crystallizing moments you only hear about in movies or on TV or in books or plays, where everything suddenly makes sense, and you see everything for what it actually is, not what it was or what it could be. I was in perfect Zen.

And with that last thought, I rolled over with a sigh and feel back asleep.