(I wrote this 10 years ago, almost to the day)
It is 3:56am on a Friday. I’ve just realized that it is a full week until my birthday. 20 years old. That is two decades. But that’s not why I’m writing this note. It is because when you’re in love, you want, no you even need to tell everyone you know. Hell, maybe it’s because I have no sleep, or I’m high on endorphins from a football game, or just because I want to write a note, I don’t know. I’ll probably regret this soon, and Facebook is pissing me off because its glitching, but here it is.
I am in love with the world.
If anyone really knows me, they know that I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe in not settling, in waiting for the perfect thing, because no one should be cheated of that. But for some reason, tonight, or this morning, with a slippery sidewalk, a centimeter of grainy snow, the world is perfect. It’s because this is one of those rare days when you don’t do anything out of the ordinary, but for some reason, everything falls into place. Across the world right now, there are countless people sleeping, a few waking up, and a few that have gone to bed for the last time. You also have people waking up next to the person they love for the first time, and people realizing they’ve just woken up to the wrong person. People are starving, people are finishing their fourth meal, people are dying, babies are being born. In the six billion people that are on this Earth, which might as well be an infinite amount of people, trillions upon trillions of connections will be made, whether you’re buying your scone from this person, or you’re marrying them, it doesn’t matter. Invariably, the degrees of separation that keep us from one another are simply figments of our imagination. To be alive is to simply be in this never ending network of people, of experience, where no one ever truly dies, but lives on however small, in the memories of another.
Yes, there is no justice in this world, and good almost never triumphs over evil, but there is still an order here. I think when people have tried to confront this mixed feeling of self-importance and insignificance; they have turned to the belief of a higher power. While I will never be wise enough to determine if there does exist a power of such greatness, I constantly overlook the divinity that lies within every act of good, and every wrong that’s righted. Every laugh, every smile, every testament to our humanity should be admired not only for they fact that it shows that we are alive, but we are here for a reason, a reason that I will probably never know, and never want to know.
Tonight is one of those rare nights, where the cold winter air seeping from my window feels just right, where a truck downshifting on Route 18 is as melodious a sound as anything I’ve ever heard, where everything is just right. Not perfect, but just right. There’s a difference, and that difference is the difference between a life spent in constant longing, against a search for contentment. So, for the time that I’ve spent writing, I’ve lived in bliss. I don’t know how long it will last, but I thought at least I’d share it with you. So under Christmas lights, a darkened lamp, and faint music coming from headphones, I would just like to let you know that I know what falling in love feels like. At least I think I do, and that’s fine with me for now.