The Lonely View

Years ago, I spent time in Upstate New York attending college and living with people who were considered family but not really family. I can only hope thirty years later, they can read this and understand I’m an adult and not afraid of whatever they might think of me, at this stage in life.

In all honesty, I’ve sat quietly for the last thirty years, without much to say about how those days made me feel. I’m one who says/believes it’s always best to uplift kids and provide them with the security that they can never fail.

My journey has been one of patience, and I’ve observed snow fall from the sky and I’ve also observed clouds move by ever so slowly. There is a difference between the two, a difference of mindset as well, which I’ll get into one day before I leave this earth.

I’m far too patient and I hate it; this is the part where I’d use “colorful” language but I’m afraid someone will narc me out to my dad and then I’d get a call from him asking me why I’m not choosing bland words. To be completely transparent, I don’t want to have a debate with my dad is all; he understands, I’m my own person, with a Rolls Royce lexicon.

There is something to be said of realizing you’re powerless whether, 30,000 feet in the air or with two feet planted securely on the ground. The views from above are spectacular but the lonely feeling still persists. What is life if one is living it all alone inside of a vestibule? I’m living but there are times when I wonder what my purpose is.

Years ago, I never thought I’d blossom into the man I am today, and this current iteration of me was almost stifled while living with those who didn’t understand that sometimes a light can be a person.

As I sit suspended in-flight, I find my reflection staring back at me, on the wing of a plane; the messaging is simple, “It’s difficult to be patient, but there’s no reward in rushing time…”

I’ll get there, wherever there is, whenever it is meant to be. I am tired though, but not completely impatient yet.