Twenty Something
It's been two years since I moved out of the city. I never would have thought that I would be twenty something, still living at home, still dating a man a secretly dont like, overweight, and still as lost as i was 2 years ago.
Come to think about it, the present feels a lot better than the past. Two years ago I was a manic mess. Life flies by so fast when you're living in the city. It is easy to ignore your feelings because the city is filled with distractions.
I love the city. In a lot of ways it reminds me of myself. The city is such a dark beautiful twisted place. Finding the beauty behind the madness is a rewarding journey. A lot of times it helps you understand the world around you.
One evening after work, I skated over to the Embarcadero. One of my favorite things to do when I felt depressed was watch the sunset at the pier. Often times I'd bring a couple Twisted Tea's and my journal. After the sunset, an hour later I was still overwhelmed with greif, so I headed out to the bus stop to go to my next destination. Alamo Square park has one of the coolest panoramic views. The plan was to get some tacos from my favorite taqueria down the street from the park, post up, and gaze upon the twinkly lights of the city.
As I waited for the bus to arrive, I was so focused on a saxaphone player that was bussing across the street. What he was playing really spoke to my soul. I loved it so much that I purposefully missed my bus so I can listen to him. His sax playing helped me find comfort in my sadness. Dispite all of the rukus going on in the city, the loud cars and hustling foot steps of our neighbors, none of that noise mattered. All that mattered to me in that moment was that man and his saxaphone.
I did end up getting my tacos, which was my first meal of the day. The night ended with me looking over the twinkly lights, silently tearing up, and my tacos.