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By Jon Date: 2006 Aug 29 Comment on this Work [[2006.08.29.17.23.20990]] |
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After three years together and the new arrival of our baby boy, I think it's safe to say I no longer have any regrets. Well, except for one: I bought an automatic-transmission Mustang. What kind of person buys an automatic American muscle car? I guess people like me. Anyway, there are probably things I should regret but don't, and other things I should remember but can't. Not because the pain or the memory haunt me, but because I've grown past them. It's kind of funny reflecting about a certain part of your life where you thought the pain and the sorrow would never end, and when the words "time heals all pains" seemed like a distant pipe dream, and then just all of a sudden you're out of that moment in your life, as if you've just stepped through a time machine, because it's not the pain or the loss you forget it's the time in-between, and it all feels like yesterday and at the same time years/months before. The moments that are mundane and boring and are only portrayed in movies through a montage because the scene by itself would seem trivial, the scenes where the guy or the girl are being looking in at through a rain pattered window while in the background some sappy soft-rock song is playing to their blues. But there is no mountain-top soul-quenching experience that refills that empty part of you either. It's not really your friends or a new love that makes everything better than it was before because friends and new loves are always going to be there, it was you. In the end, only you can suffer as long as you want to. Friends, new loves, moutain-top experiences only fill in the blanks. When my boy grows up and reaches that age to go out on dates and gets his heart broken for the first time I wonder if I'll tell him what I've learned and what I think life is all about or would I just tell him to suck it up and help daddy put in a new manual transmission on his vintage Stang? |