Excuse my vanity as I post this ridiculously old picture of myself. 20 years old, not a care in the world, walking over the Charles River in Boston, stopping to pose for a picture. The wind picked up at just the right moment and I gave a smile to that younger version of Paul behind the camera.
When I took this picture from one of Paul’s old albums on Facebook, I saved it to my computer under the file name “Old Me”. That was the first name that came to mind.
Sometimes I miss the Old Me. Just the other day Paul and I were discussing some possible big changes ahead. I don’t mind change…I have an adventurous spirit and yet I’ve come to terms with the fact my life right now doesn’t afford me much adventure, so a change in situation is about as good as it gets! And yet, at that moment of conversation, I felt overwhelmed. We have children depending on us, we have dreams we want to pursue, we have ourselves to stay true to.
I looked over at Paul and said “All I want is to be back in college, sitting outside that little cafe in Beverly. Alone. Writing in my journal.”
Perhaps five and a half years is not enough time to forget those old freedoms. I could go anywhere on a whim, stay up all hours of the night, read when I wanted to, dream crazy dreams…I was so free.
And here is where I should write some poignant paragraph about how *sigh* I love my life just the way it is now…wouldn’t change it for the world…can’t go back after all, right?
But, no. I think sometimes I just want to sit in this place. Sit in the memories and the longings. Is that so wrong?
Or am I just painting pictures of Egypt?
I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I’ve learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned