Highs and lows

Riding the highs and trudging through the lows like shoes caked in sticky mud.  It’s both interesting and maddening to me how some moments can hang on for dear life while others shoot through you like bolts of lightning.  The bad feelings and the good, respectively of course.  As we came to learn through middle school English class, “nothing gold can stay.”

I left Alicante on both a high and a low.  Having met an amazing person so close to my departure meant near constant quality, yet fleeting time.  I drove out of the city into the baked no man’s land of middle Spain with my head reeling.  Fate seems cruel in some ways but merciful in others.  What could have been if I had stayed?  Sometimes it’s better not to know.

I’m trying to learn to appreciate, savor, and let go of sweet and bittersweet moments alike.  I’ve always been deeply sentimental while at the same time exceedingly hopeful.  Everything means something even though at times I don’t know what.

So I fixate.  I put my faith in moments that are best left as snapshots in time; photographs with edges worn by reminiscent hands.  I’m trying to learn to put them lovingly in the album of my life, then turn a fresh page.

Madrid began on a frantic, kinetic high of new faces and old.  I realized just how much of a toll isolation, both self-made and legally mandated, took on me while I was away.  I had no shortage of things and people to revisit.  Some kept the high alive.  Others weighed me down.

And once that shiny newness was dulled away by the everyday rhythm of life, the open-ended thoughts crept back in.  I’m working toward something, I tell myself.  But what? Comes my mind’s rejoinder.  The truth is, it’s hard to pin that down when you feel purposeless.

I don’t do well without forward momentum, this much has been clear for some time.  In a week, I’ll start my masters classes and in a month I’ll be back in the classroom.  I’ll have a routine.  I’ll once again revel in my free time.  I’ll have fewer moments to ruminate on life’s what ifs and what could have beens.

I’ll always envy those who can remember the good times for what they are and were and move on without sadness or regret.  Maybe I’ll get there someday.

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