Sandpaper

Life has a way of wearing you down. Time passes, and layers peel away like sands on a beach. Some of the departures are long overdue. Bad habits, fears and ignorance are shed joyously like the last remnants of a bad cold. But you lose the good things as well, and somewhere down the line you wonder when you stopped believing, trusting, feeling. When did you lose that innocence that makes young children glow like new stars? When did it fade away, only to be replaced by a dull film of low expectations? You look back and wonder what wave crashed along your shores and pulled those last seashells away.

These are milestones in life. You stop at a red light and pause to review where you've been, and where your going. You check the scribbled map on the palm of your hand and question whether you've followed the correct route. Were you supposed to make a left or right at that heartbreak two miles back? Is that the relationship landmark you were looking for? Do you have enough fuel to get where you're going? People often say they have no regrets but that's either a blatant untruth, or a sad state of ignorance and naïveté, for to have no regrets is to acknowledge no lessons learned. You were supposed to make a left.

The trick about these moments is what you do after. Life is blessed or broken by the decisions made when you realize that the time has come to make one. The weary of spirit find themselves fearing a hopeful future. Just more regrets to obsess over and losses to grieve. More pain, more frustration, and more sleepless nights. Gray hair and wrinkles.

Life can be so, so, so tragic, and most of the drama is in those moments. The red light. The tidal wave. The ocean will flow, the traffic will come, and you will confront another chance to hope. To be lighthearted amidst the ebb and flow, and not drown.