a simpler time, yes. but amidst the partying, the professional exhilaration, the wallowing in loneliness, and the utter depression, there was a sense of being content with my discontent. it wasn’t exactly what i wanted out of life, but enough to be okay. actually, it was what i wanted, retrospectively, but didn’t see it at the time, and therefore became sub par. it was half assed. it was sad and busy and stressful, but it was good. i felt alive.
now in my current state, wits dulled over time from being comfortable too long, the sharp edge gone, i find myself in the same place on the other side of the line. stupid things will remind me, too. not to mention the fact that i glorify times past.
wet cobblestones glimmer with a sheen from the dull yellow-orange lamppost lights. the night is alive with people and cars and the music of the city. an old city, too, one that barely saw modern updating. my boot heels click on the damp stone as we make our way down the river. the dirty water sparkles pristine in the same orange light. sucking down tobacco smoke, head full of hops, simultaneously making conversation both light and heavy. the cool autumn night air, turning into winter. we would speculate on the transpirings of the evening, of what has already occurred and what will possibly occur. floating around old haunts, regulars all over town. the sound of laughter from whoever was our evening’s female companion when there was one. that is, when it wasn’t just two disgruntled alcoholics, one plotting to land some “sweet chocolate”, the other incredulous about the actions of others. it was kind of a prowl, if the word prowl could also connotate a lackadaisical, haphazard, and stumbling approach to a night about town. cheap liquor and bad music, transparent and flaky friends. the spontaneity was amazing.
i guess my regret now is that i didn’t stop to admire the glittering river, the cool night breeze. i didn’t make the most of a large social hub. i didn’t come up with anything revolutionary. i couldn’t see past the frustration and the sense of resignation. but it was wonderful, and in that i think i am in love with my misery, even if it comes in the form of regret.