A friend said that to me once, and she doesn't know it, but it permanently changed the way I see myself. Mostly because I hold her in great respect and love. I do now as much as I have before, though we've drifted apart.
"Nothing ever lasts."
Truer words have never been spoken. I've thought a lot about life recently. I always think about love, though I whine about it less these days. It's simple, really. I've made the choice to focus my life on other things. More pertinent, evident things. Things like life, and how I'm living it. The choices I'm making.
Choices. You know, my friends, that our lives are built of the choices we make. Sure, there are coincidences. Is Fate a player? Maybe. But the body and soul of our lives are constructed of the choices we make, and the ripples those choices cause. The Butterfly Effect, if you will. But, without Ashton Kutcher.
These choices affect the people we are, the people around us, the people around them, and so forth. We make what we will of our lives by the choices we make every day. "Do I get up and go to work today, or do I not?" "Do I better myself today? Or do I not?" "Do I scratch myself right now, or do I not?" We've seen this concept before. We all understand what I'm talking about. But what if I told you that this is what it's all about? That the meaning of life is not some simple phrase, not some foolish hope, but is threaded and woven into the pattern of choices we make?
I felt old today. I'm only 29, but I realized that I have lived 30 years not doing a whole hell of a lot. I thought closely about it for some time. I thought about love, myself, and my surroundings. I thought about my life. I realized that I have made some awful, some stupid and some fantastic decisions. I realized that for much of it, I didn't know any better. I realized that I now do, and I still make bad decisions every day. Lazy decisions, cruel decisions, apathetic decisions. I shed the emptiness and replaced it with uncertainty a long time ago. I've grown familiar and comfortable with that uncertainty, I've poked at it some and, like a mass of granite in the middle of the artist's studio, I stare at it every day and wait for inspiration to strike so I can create my masterpiece. But instead of lamenting the absence of a muse, I celebrate the wonderful things in my life. My friends, my plans, and my dreams. Not me yet, I'm not there yet. Not wonderful.
But I'm getting there.
I love you, my older sister, and I worry and care and marvel at you from where I am now. I'm sad I didn't get a picture of the Prince in the mail, but I'm sure you have your reasons, and I trust you.
Someday soon, I would like to look you in the face and tell you that I didn't mean it, but you know that. Someday I hope you find it in your heart to forgive the breaking of your fragile trust. Another product of bad decisions. Someday soon I hope you find the happiness you don't believe exists for you anymore.
Someday soon, I hope you shine again, as you once did.
But no matter what, I'll always love you, and if you need me, I'll be there.



