30 Seconds before coming down

There’s this place where I go, sometimes, that reminds me of how immediate life is. It’s not necessarily a physical, tangible place. In fact, depending on the time, the circumstance, and/or the person, it can be many different places.

It’s that place, about thirty seconds before starting to come down from hours of heavy drinking, when you ask yourself “What am I doing?”. Not because you think that what you’re doing is wrong, but just because the question suddenly arises, unsolicited.

Or that moment in the middle of the night, when you’re watching your lover, your child, or even your pet sleep, so still. And you think about how much of a pleasure it is to witness such beauty, such purity. Such a sense of security on their part.

It’s that point where you’re laughing so hard with your friend that for a split second you wonder if and/or hope that you can be friends forever, but at the same time, it doesn’t even matter.

It’s also that time when you’re alone and you wonder how people really see you, what people really think about you… How do you really smell? When you laugh, are they hearing your joy, or do they think you’re just putting it on – just like you’ve secretly accused THEM of doing sometimes?

Do they really like your cooking? Your opinion? Your kiss? After all, you’ve doubted them on a number of occasions, so doesn’t it stand to reason that they may doubt you too? But once again, you remember: does it matter?

It’s in those moments, in those places that I feel truly mortal after all. And the more thankful for the honor. I don’t even care if I’m still here tomorrow.

Published in: on October 9, 2007 at 7:39 am  Leave a Comment