There has been unrelenting reflection on where I am and how I got here. A lot of lament for a small handful of decisions and a life marked by avoiding uncomfortable decisions. I don't know where the last 20 years have gone. Last I remember, I was playing Wii in my friend's basement. I remember the seemingly endless opportunities nights laid out before us. DVDs and pizza and furious laughter. I remember waking up in strange places. I don't know when that all ended. It ended.
I had a friend describe middle age as suddenly being able to see the outline of the cage. It's apt.
I'd have liked to have gone to a real college, had the college experience. I'd have liked to have mended friendships.
40 has such a strange loneliness to it, I take solace in my children. My friends had children years before me and it made friendships tiring. The age gap in our children now that I have my own has not helped.
I spent much of the last decade collecting retro video games. I have a room full of them. It came to me recently, I don't think I actually enjoy games. I enjoyed playing them with friends, but by myself they're hollow. I don't play games with friends anymore. When my kids get a little older we'll have fun.
I've had Damien Rice's "Older Chests" playing in my head on repeat despite my best efforts to drown it out.
I am in therapy, but I think I have just too strong of a mask for anyone else to truly pierce.
I'll get out of this funk eventually, I should take this as a wake up call.