I think I will close with this –

Everyone has their moments. Everyone has a time which, if they could, they would go back to, or better yet, I have seen questions on social media which ask, if this were the 90’s, or if you could go back in time, or back before there was social media, Wi-Fi, the internet, and hell, I could go back to the times before cable television, and if you could walk into your childhood home or your childhood bedroom, what would you do?

I love these questions. And I can say that I have given them some thought.
I suppose we all have days or nights that we would love to revisit, or people we miss and wish we could see.
I suppose everyone thinks about their pivotal moments in life—or if they could go back, what would they say or do differently?

What is this?
What are we working for? A house? A car?
Are we working to have a special life?
But more, are we happy with what we have?
What does it mean to have a good quality of life?

I wonder about these things.
When is enough, enough?
When can we sit back, or when do we get to say, ah, yes –
This is what we came for . . .

I am going to treat this entry like it’s not a journal entry; but more, I’m going to treat this like a conversation between two people.
Better yet, I’m going to treat this like it was when we were kids, just a boy and a girl, on the phone, late at night, and capable of talking about anything for hours.
I want this to be simple and pure, the same as life should be simple and no additives, no preservatives, and no unneeded complications, and no worries about what’s going on outside or in other parts of the world.

There’s no one else here, except for us two kids.

I get in and start the car.
I love it like this.
No one is on the road. The sun is just about to come up and the sky is about to change. I love the way my mind shuts down for the moment, which is not to say that I am not paying attention,
of course I am.
However, early morning drives like this are perfect for me.

I somehow slip away into this semi-aware state of mind.  
I know where I’m going, and I know how to speed up or slow down. I know how to signal when I change lanes, and I know when to stop or go.
I know when to exit or when to turn left or right.
At the same time, my body takes over these tasks and my thinking slips into a different gear.

I suppose I never looked at my elders as people. Or maybe I should say that I never realized that my parents were people too, which is interesting, and obvious, but at the same time,I look at my parents, good or bad, faults and flaws, and I never realized that they have feelings too.
They had worries and insecurities. The ame as I have defects of character or challenges and emotional difficulties—parents were not always parents, and like me, or like anyone else, parents lived and breathed before they were called Mom or Dad.

I think this is a rare thing to see.
Obvious and true.
But rare nonetheless.

I was young. I was inexperienced. Then again, I was just a kid.
I had no idea about the meaning behind the word “manhood.” And yet, I posed and postured, and I played and I would pretend. Yes, I acted like I knew or like I was unafraid.
But what else could I do?
I pretended to be cool and steady, to which I have grown enough to realize that most people are scared. Most people are frightened of something and afraid to lose, or to appear weak. No one wants to be vulnerable and there is a common fear of being exposed, used, or humiliated.