More Than I Do.

All manner of things have come and gone. I have been intently focused on some certain things which mostly have gone but perhaps have not entirely gone. I have been falling into the past, headfirst, as if into a freshly raked pile of freshly fallen leaves. I have been soaking in all the things I used to feel before I knew why I was feeling them. Those feelings used to seem so real; they used to seem so honest. I used to be someone I never knew I was.

All manner of things have come and will come. The leaves will leave. The frost will follow. And then the winter will melt into yet another spring. I have been someone I did not know I would be. I have found things I never would have wished to be true. I still feel like I know someone and he still acts as though I never knew him. I was someone to him, once. I was someone real. And now he pushes me away; he pulls me apart. I can never understand those people, the people who can throw others away as though it never mattered. I guess I can't understand the idea of deluding yourself. I can't understand lying to yourself and behaving as though nothing was ever any different than it is now, at this second.

Youth is a fleeting thing. It is something that, if you are observant, you understand at the time that it will not last. I remember being so very young, being in elementary school and thinking of how quickly the time passed. And when I thought about how quickly the time passed I always thought about how that had always been true to me, how I always had thought the time passed quickly. And I understood that I would not feel the same way in a few years. I knew that soon, all this time I had tossed aside and wished would be through with, would mean something very different to me. I remember sitting, in wait, for a spelling test that I had not studied one bit for
and I remember wishing that the day was over and done with. But, I also remember knowing that maybe today I want this day done for, over with, but in the future I knew I would look back on this time and I would remember it clearly. I guess that's part of what is so hard about being so young. You are so aware and so yourself. You are so full inside yourself, so immensely embodied in who you actually are as opposed to who you think you ought to be. You have so few experiences behind you that the only person you are is entirely you. And I suppose that is equally upsetting as nerve-wracking.

I wish that I knew someone more than I do. I wish I could see someone else more than I do. I wish I could know myself more than I do. I wish I could see these words more often than I do.