I've lost count on how many weeks it has been since my torn Achilles accident. Possibly 8 weeks now? It's all a blur. I'm writing this post in the context of having 6 more weeks to go in my airwalk boot. I've been going to physical therapy several times a week and doing my daily exercises, but I've a long way yet to go. All of this has me thinking about change. Good old change.
"She gazed at him and became lost in memories now long gone. The stubble on his chin, the freckles under his eyes and the few flecks of gray in his hair, but his crooked smile had captured her attention the most. She could not look away. She remembered the touch of his two day old beard, the roughness of it, and the way he had said her name. But that was all in the past now ... He walked past her without any recognition and the young woman on his arm smiled and the hurt began, small at first, deep in her chest but then it grew and enveloped her with a pain that engulfed her heart and drowned her in longing. Cinderella turned away and the music from the ball faded behind her."
Have you ever felt this way? A love that had kept you up at night and sustained you in the darkest of times now had become your worst pain?
I remember a time in which I would receive actual letters in the mail. Now I get junk mail and some bills. The only time I receive anything of interest through the US postal service is around Christmas or my birthday and when I receive a package from Amazon for something I purchased. Long gone are the days of well-thought out and purposeful letters in which you could build a friendship over words. Time has passed and I have adapted to the modern era as well using texts, 140 characters or less and 6 second Vines to communicate. But is that good?
I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm a romantic. I decided a long, long time ago to embrace life and to live it to the fullest. But on seeing Richard Linklater's most recent film, Before Midnight, I have come face to face with the delusional yearnings of my youth and the hard, cold reality of the present. Bills, arguments, lack of sleep, screaming kids, work upon work, and a whole list of stresses, make me ask: Am I still a romantic and would I recommend others to be the same?