Older We Go Up This Old Flag’s Pole

Nostalgia, you old bastard, you’ve got me by the typing toes and I just can’t bring myself to stop. Remember high school and how great it wasn’t or was? Remember college and all those pals you had? Remember your 20’s, when you slowed down the drinking, everyone started pairing off and you could go on double dates with your best friend and his girl/wife/whatever every week because they only lived two blocks over. You had a host of friends you could call up when things got rough enough to necessitate a heavy drinking session or just when you needed someone to help you move the china cabinet to your next apartment. Text messages only ever read “I’m at Harris, come over” or “Want to grab a slice?” and then you just called the person or went over to see them.

Eventually, everyone moves on, all around the country, trying to find that thing that is going to make them happy finally. Blaming the little mundanities of existence on your location, your friends, your habits, when it’s really only that last one that causes life to feel boring and stale. I have been chasing something for a decade, no, for longer than that, for some every single year of my life since I was old enough to realize I was too old to play GI Joes and swing from the monkey bars anymore. I’ve seen the entire country twice, some of the rest of the world, and it was a blast, to be honest. But in the end, you can’t run forever because eventually you’ll have run through every place you can get to or something will come along and slap a brick wall up in front of you that you were so busy making sure your feet could keep up with all of this “I have to go somewhere” that you didn’t even see it coming.

Why is it that advice can only be taken when it’s too late and you’ve learned it all for yourself?

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