Sometimes I think that there will never be “good” again. Kind of like you reached this ultimate high and you have this demented, warped vision that you’ll never reach that level of excitement ever again. But I’ve started to notice the good without even seeking it. I believe that good will find you, as long as you let it.
A very close person in my life is one giant pessimist. I mean like so bad. I’m talking not getting the front seat for a fifteen minute car ride, and hysterically starting to cry because of that. It’s not like this person was five years old, they were twenty. I speak to that person every day of my life and love them with every single bit of myself every single day. I look at their life and I see the bumps but I never really understood how someone was so unhappy with themselves and their life that they start crying over the front seat. Continuously asking myself, “Why are you crying over the front seat?”.
Both you and I have the front seat if you look at it hard enough. Not literally, two people can’t technically sit in the front seat. Figuratively, you and I have the front seat where we can see exactly what’s ahead of us and it’s our decision where we decide to turn. I think even in that, the littlest thing ever, the simple acknowledgment that we have all the power in our hands to turn down dark, scary, self destructing paths and we have all the power in our hands to turn down paths of goodness.
Up until recently I have never cried over the front seat.
That being said, I never really hit many hard bumps and deep pot holes and I surely never cried over any of them if I even slightly saw them in the near future. I was the world’s most giant optimist. It was great. Then college happened, or the thought of college throughout my senior year of high school and everything seemed to aggravate me. Eventually, I was going down a constant straight road with nothing but pot holes. I felt silly and cowardly. I felt cowardly because I questioned and invalidated that person whom I love very much all because they were crying over the front seat. Remember how I wrote a post about being vulnerable? Yeah, they were surely vulnerable in that moment of tantrum and I commend them for it greatly. Now I was crying over the front seat but in shame of it.
And that’s it. I’m stuck in a never ending pot hole, crying over the front seat until I get to that one place of goodness, just maybe.
NO! WHY AM I, WHY ARE YOU, WHY ARE WE CRYING OVER THE FRONT SEAT WHEN THE VIEW HERE IS SO GOOD?
As Kayne West once said, “Woke up an optimist”, which I felt personally. That front seat is too dang nice to just cry about it from the back seat, when we could be waking up to call shotgun first thing and seek the goodness. Pretty much up until right about now, now meaning about two weeks ago, did I turn on my windshield wipers and see that goodness.
I am currently writing to you from a coffee shop in my new home for the next four years starting next fall, the weather is chilly and rainy on this Saturday morning and I couldn’t be more content. To know that there is goodness in my cup of coffee and my neighbors cup of coffee as well, is good. To keep you further updated, I will be using my windshield wipers a lot in the future but only so I can see the goodness in front of me and never cry over the front seat again.