Surprise! Life Doesn't Suck
Sometimes I still manage to surprise myself. It's an odd thing, especially since I think I'm a pretty deliberate guy.
During my visit to Blacksburg for the Charles "The Stupid" Delacuesta Graduation Extravaganza, I fully expected to feel wistful, sad, sentimental, etc. Subsequent to my own graduation, my visits to campus and the mountains and the old apartments had always welled-up bittersweet memories of how much fun I'd had in school. Worse, I struggled with the idea that I'd heard, over and over again, that "life is one long downhill slide after college". My experiences working and living in Alexandria leant it a ring of truth.
So yeah, I was pretty surprised when I didn't feel one bit of wistfulness or sentimentality. Not during the trip to Wind Rock, not in the midst of downtown drunks, not while driving across campus, not while walking past the old apartments in Foxridge, not while scarfing wings at BW3 or inhaling a Souvlaki gyro, not during an emergency lactose explosion on a VT crapper ... nada. This from a guy who spent his 26th birthday in mourning, who spent hours sifting through old party photos, who's struggled to find a niche in his new home. Blacksburg's familiar haunts and experiences prompted little more than recognition. It was the complete opposite of what I'd expected.
This could mean a lot of things. I suppose the best explanation is that I'm slowly settling in to a new life which, at worst, is "not un-satisfying". Or maybe it's the growing realization that Fun doesn't end sometime in the early 20s. [Hanging around 45-year-olds who still enjoy dirty jokes and drinking may have something to do with that.] I wish I could say I'm having the time of my life right now, but I'm not. It's been a bitch of a time meeting people. And I know I'm not suddenly incapable of being wistful. That's what makes this so odd.
Though I did get pretty sentimental for an old fashioned cock-fucking.
During my visit to Blacksburg for the Charles "The Stupid" Delacuesta Graduation Extravaganza, I fully expected to feel wistful, sad, sentimental, etc. Subsequent to my own graduation, my visits to campus and the mountains and the old apartments had always welled-up bittersweet memories of how much fun I'd had in school. Worse, I struggled with the idea that I'd heard, over and over again, that "life is one long downhill slide after college". My experiences working and living in Alexandria leant it a ring of truth.
So yeah, I was pretty surprised when I didn't feel one bit of wistfulness or sentimentality. Not during the trip to Wind Rock, not in the midst of downtown drunks, not while driving across campus, not while walking past the old apartments in Foxridge, not while scarfing wings at BW3 or inhaling a Souvlaki gyro, not during an emergency lactose explosion on a VT crapper ... nada. This from a guy who spent his 26th birthday in mourning, who spent hours sifting through old party photos, who's struggled to find a niche in his new home. Blacksburg's familiar haunts and experiences prompted little more than recognition. It was the complete opposite of what I'd expected.
This could mean a lot of things. I suppose the best explanation is that I'm slowly settling in to a new life which, at worst, is "not un-satisfying". Or maybe it's the growing realization that Fun doesn't end sometime in the early 20s. [Hanging around 45-year-olds who still enjoy dirty jokes and drinking may have something to do with that.] I wish I could say I'm having the time of my life right now, but I'm not. It's been a bitch of a time meeting people. And I know I'm not suddenly incapable of being wistful. That's what makes this so odd.
Though I did get pretty sentimental for an old fashioned cock-fucking.
posted by Waan at 1:54 AM
2 Comments:
I have to agree with your sentiments. I never, ever, ever want to move back to NoVA, but I miss aspects of my former life. Stuck between lamenting the past and pushing forward is tough- the first year the toughest.
Friends and family- the people that actually made that place worth it are leaving or talking about leaving in droves- well, mine are. I sometimes long for memories that can never be regained- at least in that area.
But the more people move on, the more people we can hold on to and add new into our lives- no matter how long it takes.
God this is sappy.
On the macro level, no one is unique. If you had access to all the life experiences of the many billions of people who are, have been, or will be alive, you'd find that there isn't a whole lot of variation. Everyone experiences happiness, regret, longing, etc. The only thing that really makes you unique is context.
You are very much the product of unalterable circumstance: the family you were born to, the country in which you live, the people you meet, genetic dispositions, even the historical timeframe. All of those little environmental things factor in to who you are. You are you because no one's been precisely in your shoes; your will is your own, but your choices are shaped by everything prior to that point.
In deference to that fact, I am sentimental; I realize what import the past carries in terms of defining who we are.
Do I miss being in college? Sure. Will I look back on where I am right now with any less fondness? No.
I don't think a lot of people appreciate the fact that the present does indeed become the past. The best piece of advice I was ever given is to keep things in perspective. Strive to view the world through what will inevitably be hindsight.
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