I Am Easy to Find ★★★★★

sometimes I think about the places i’ve been. my childhood home, now occupied by people I don’t know. I wonder if their child treasures that room as much as I did. I remember it as massive, but it’s much too small for me now. I wonder if they ever sit under the tree in the backyard, a place that used to be my only solace on sweltering summer days. the branches are thinner than I remember. 

sometimes I think about the places I desperately long to be again. in the arms of my lover. her arms were always shorter than mine, and I was at least a head taller, but I always felt safe. small. at ease. she loves someone else now. she posted about it yesterday. I unfollowed her. I don’t care if that makes me bitter. 

I think about the places i’ll never get to be. mostly abstract, only occasionally literal. I wonder if I’ll ever be content. I wonder if I even know what that means. I wonder if I’ll ever be in love again. I wonder if I ever really was. 

I don’t know if i’ll be a good father. 

I think about the scar on my grandfather’s forearm. sometimes I wonder how he got it. i’ll never get the chance to ask him — he passed away six years ago. I think about my dad. taken from the world before he got to see his son graduate. I wonder what he would’ve said. I wonder if they’re proud of me. 

these moments, these places, these thoughts are all ephemeral. immortal, yet gone before they even begin. I wonder what my daughter will look like. I hope I can do right by her.

this is the first of an inevitable, longer piece. for now, consider me floored.