the queen of cliche

It's almost midnight now and I just got home. A few hours ago I decided to go on a late night adventure by myself to do some thinking.

A friend recently told me that he was disappointed in my blog over the past few months; that I used to be so full of wonder, and that the pattern in my writings is like watching a car accident in slow motion. That was kind of brutal, but that's why a field trip was in order. I wanted time to reflect on myself, the path I've chosen, and whether or not I'm happy with the way things have changed.

I ventured down to the University District and stopped by the 24-hour coffee and donut shop on 45th. This was the place I used to meet up with the homeless man I befriended, Lloyd. We'd get a round of coffee and donuts to enjoy as we sat and chatted about life while the world snowed in around the warm, little shop. To me, those were the good ol' days before I allowed myself to feel the bitterness around me. So tonight, I grabbed a coffee and headed over to Gas Works Park. That will always be the place I can find peace, and this definitely wasn't the first night I sat on the waterfront with only my thoughts.

People find beauty in different things, like watching the sunset or looking out at a serene mountain landscape. No doubt those are great things, but for me, there is so much beauty in the city at night. I get lost in amazement while gazing across the water at Seattle, something I think of as "accidental beauty"... maybe that makes sense to you, maybe it doesn't. I think too much about the little things, like the hundreds of people that possibly forgot to turn their office lights off when they left at closing, not knowing they were lighting up a picturesque view for people across the water, or the pilot navigating a plane as it flies breathlessly overhead, and the person cruising a low lit sailboat across the water. It all comes together perfectly without intention, and that it why I call it accidental.

So there I am, sitting on the waterfront sipping hot coffee, and thinking about life. Don is right, I used to have a giving heart. What changed in me? Is this what growing up does to people? How did people like Mother Theresa get through life without falling victim to this? While churning through different ideas about what happened to the old me, I pinned down something I've been feeling a lot of this past year, and I should've realized it sooner. Often it feels like I'm getting someone else's leftovers, getting what's left behind after everyone else has gotten what makes them happy, and then trying to hold onto something that I might not even want, just so that I've got something, too. This is where my relationships go wrong, not just romantic relationships, but with family and friendships as well. At what point does one decide to stop giving and demand whatever it is that makes them happy? Have I reached that point? And if I did, when? These thoughts remind me of how many mistakes I've made recently. I'm afraid I've set myself in a particulary crappy situation that I won't go into detail about, and all there is to do at this point is keep pursuing happiness and hope that all the other problems melt away. But still, it feels like I'm always catching the yellow light, caught between deciding to run it or be considerate and wait for the next one.

I've never understood why people in a bad situation will comfort another by saying, "It gets better," even if those words are empty. I'm exploring a new meaning in the phrase, maybe the "it" is the person they're speaking to. Maybe the key to happiness is knowing that I will get better... better at negotiation, better at knowing people, better at keeping myself safe, better at guarding my heart. I've said it before but I'll say it again, I know I'm young, and knowing that, I realize that I'm still learning, still growing, and realizing that I have all the time in the world to do so.