Young-Life Crisis

Being in your twenties is a funny thing.  Basically, you're at your peak, physically speaking (for most people), you have more energy than you will in decades to come, your whole life is ahead of you with so many possibilities and opportunities, but it's also a very difficult, sometimes traumatic time.  It's frustrating when older people go on and on about how jealous they are of you and your youth and they encourage you to travel and "see the world."  Let me tell you, I would love nothing more, but I have to pay rent and bills each month which pretty much swallows up each and every paycheck I receive.  I'm slowly starting to save, but it's hardly anything because I need every cent I make.  So I won't be rushing off to Europe for months at a time.  Sorry, guys.  Looks like you won't get to live vicariously through me in the manner that you wish.  The way I see it is that I have all the years ahead of me to travel and see the world, but right now I'm just trying to find myself and simply get by.

I've never been a "live in the moment" kind of person.  I am super anxious all the time, and I'm always anticipating the next adventure.  This makes it difficult for me to enjoy things as they happen because I am constantly looking forward to the next thing.  Sad, I know, but also very true.  Lately, I've been peeking back into the past at certain times when I know I was really happy and trying so hard to remember exactly how that moment felt - what I could see, what I could smell and hear and the people there with me.  This isn't to say I'm not happy right now and I'm trying to remember what it is to be happy.  No, no.  I am very happy with how things are going for me.  I'm young and in love and I live in a beautiful, cultured city with lots of great sights and food.  It's just sometimes comforting to remember little moments of pure joy.

I was reading something the other day when I came across the question "where is home to you?"  The answer is the physical place/location where you feel the most comfort and happiness.  For me, it's probably Nana's house.  I've been going there for the past twenty-three and half years.  It's where many of my earliest memories take place.  I remember specific times of being over there.  The kitchen curtains open, natural light pouring into the room, the just-mopped floor still damp as the ceiling fan works hard to dry it, the faint smell of cleaning products and cigarette smoke, the theme song of The Young and the Restless coming in from the living room...

Nana is finally back in her house after mostly recovering from her heart surgery last summer.  She bounced around to different areas of the hospital before staying with my aunt Kandace for about six months until she felt comfortable enough to move back home.  Hopefully I'll get to go see her back at home, the way things have always been and should always remain.

It will be nice to be back in that barn-like house.  It will be nice to be home again.