Long View

Reading through this mountain of archived person-to-person emails has been half-therapeutic, half-embarrassing. It’s embarrassing not in how genuine and excited and sincere I was, but how thinly-veiled my desire to sleep with half the people I shared mail with (I suppose that if I had made it my bold intent, I would’ve been more successful, eh?).

Really, though, this was my mid-20s, and although I still believed I knew everything (to a diminishing point), I knew that there were a lot of unanswered questions in the spaces between myself and the people in my life. That was where I wanted to explore. Strange lands indeed. These missives were the attempts, the feelers, to reach out for a hand to hold, for a funk soul brother, a sweet soul sister, a fellow commiserator in the coffee-and-cigarettes table of life.

The therapy comes in the form of this long view, a high observation tower not over space, but over time. Memory is faulty, but the written word is clearer, and in the light of history, it teases out the crux of intent, the tasty bits of what made me tick, of seeing, in sentences, the voice that said in not so few words, “please acknowledge me”.

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?