Tuesday, April 08, 2008

nothing feels as old

As I did last night. I sat on my bedroom floor drinking wine, eating fake buffalo wings and then drinking beer. When you meet someone who hasn't heard all of your stories, who wasn't there for all the heartbreak and happiness, who doesn't have all of the same friends, and spent their formative years in different parks/garages/clubs/driveways/backseats you get to learn more about yourself. Recounting losing your virginity is different when it is almost 10 years removed. Replaying soundtracks to your evenings leaves you with songs that don't carry the weight they used to. Trying to explain inside jokes, or why you can't get high, or name sections of deserts that are now empty shopping centers, or which girl it was that you last referred to as a girl, before you started dealing with women, really add the pages to the calender that had snuck on unnoticed up to this point. But being so far removed from these things and realizing that you don't have to defend those decisions anymore, that makes the transitions easy to take. It was a great night on my bedroom floor, like one I hadn't spent in almost a decade.

4 comments:

Amelia said...

That's an interesting thought about the girls to women thing. You sound quite bereft. It doesn't go both ways either - men are much nicer to deal with than boys. :)

My security word for this comment was, I swear, pussygaa.

Anonymous said...

I'm not thinking bereft. Maybe meloncholy. With more hope.

ImPerceptible said...

To me, it reads like the sweetness that comes from reflecting on growth. Coming from a man that feels his heart is in a safe place.

Amelia said...

I meant bereft in a wink-wink nudge-nudge kind of way, in that yeah, things get more complicated and women expect more. Clearly Anthony is not suicidal or emotionally distraught here. My thesis will be in Monday.

My word for this comment is guvmuff. Chrissakes.