Friday, February 8, 2013

how it all changes.

change surrounds us. you drive down the road, swerving in and out of lanes, running yellow lights never passing the same car twice. you walk the city streets overflowing with people and their winter jackets and glazed stares and problems and it's very rare to see the same person again. you go to your favorite restuarant and the waitress who could've sworn was just 2 months pregnant three weeks ago now looks like shes ready to pop before she brings your grilled cheese, tomato soup, and diet coke with a spritz of lime order back to the table. the guy you loved in high school is now married with a second kid on the way and you chuckle at dodging that bullet. actually you sit there for a minute in your own thoughts thinking how different your life would've been if you were the one to have said yes. you say a quick gratitude prayer to the big man above for that one. a-freakin-men. your dad's gray hair has been more noticeable lately, but Lord forbid you say a word about that. your little brother is turning twenty two next year and you can still remember his fifth grade graduation and his gap toothed smile like it was yesterday. your little sister's hair is now growing back in beautifully. the cancer really hit hard the past three years; the whole time you wished it was you instead. the nights your overheard your mom cry herself to sleep have now dulled into the distance as the reality set in, including the successful treatment sessions. fallen, sad tears turned into relieved, happy ones as the doctor whispered the words "cancer-free" in that cold, heartless office about three months ago. your best friend isn't your best friend anymore. the last you heard, she moved off to chicago with her boyfriend of six months and got some fancy job in the city; the kind of job you have to carry a pompous attitude in order to live up to the expectation. she only thrives by the city lights at night; that's the only sparkle you see in her eyes anymore - or so you've heard. you know fewer people in your new town, but genuinely like them. when they leave the room, you know they don't exchange glances and mentally insult your outfit, even if it's polka-dotted pajama pants and a taylor swift t-shirt. you don't entertain people who are mentally bad for your health. actually you saw one of them about three weeks ago in target and as bad as it was to ignore their existance, it was easier to do that than to front a fake smile. memories of laying by the pool sipping margaritas while chewing over what boy toy you were playing at that time came flooding back to the forefront of your mind and you smile. fifteen percent at the memory; eighty five percent that you no longer have that toxic friend anymore. the memory darkens to the day she revealed who she really was and your friendship crumbled on top of its own foundation. you have no idea how the guy that broke your heart is doing. you have no urge to find out. your metabolism isn't quite what it used to be and you can't eat seventeen mini-snickers bars in one setting. now seventeen of those mini-snickers bars equal about seven miles on the treadmill and then some. and sorry but no chocolate is worth that torture. people you pinky promised to be in your one day wedding you no longer talk to. nothing really dramatic happened; you just grew apart. it's like all these moments are on a shifting, sliding scale. i guess life just happens.

without change, life would be boring. if you could always call the moments, you would lose the magic. change is always around us. you'll live through the days and not notice a single thing that changes, but you'll wake up one day and it's all different. different faces and a new look outside your bedroom window. familiarity is gone. familiarity can be dull; lifeless. i will say though, change can be painful. but change can also be beautiful. but in most ways - change is both. 


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