our lives were just beginning, our favorite moment was right now, our favorite songs were unwritten

I’m sitting in a hotel room in Rome (Georgia) that’s all too far from Athens (Georgia) and the one I love. It’s still unusual being an adult at times, being so focused on a long-term career, a short-term workload, money, and stability. There are still days when I want to regress and be in high school again, or better yet, that first year of college, when I was idealistic to a fault, in love with potential. I still have days when I feel that way, but they are moments, and they require reflection. So many things around me seem to be ending; so many new things are beginning. I’m realizing the possibilities that have expired and embracing the new ones that are before me.

I recently took the MBTI test again, and yet again, I came out an INFJ. I thought I had moved beyond some of those characteristics, but evidently not enough. There’s certainly still a part of me that’s romantic about the past…which I guess is what led me to write today, at a time in my life when I am far less inspired than I was in my youth. Five years doesn’t seem that long ago, but it was the beginning of the path that took me where I am today. My post-college twenties. Some of the most revolutionary years of my life at a time when I didn’t think I had any of those left. Your post-college twenties are some scary years because you’re no longer on a set path; your accomplishments are no longer measured by credits earned. It’s also easy to regress during those years. On your most difficult days, you really want to be a kid again. You want someone to hold your hand through this life change, the first life change in which no one is there to do that for you. But things level out, and like a game of Perfection, you find your place after a series of shake-ups. I finally feel that I’ve found my place, but it wasn’t without risks, failures, and a lot of anxiety.

I think too much about the past and how I got here. It all seems so random, particularly how I fell in love with the woman who will be my wife in a month. A month. It was three years ago today, April 23, 2010, when we met for the first time, a moment that bloomed from a close online friendship that itself was a few weeks old. I can’t overstate the role our town, Athens, played in that romance. From the concert at which we met (Modern Skirts at the Caledonia), our first dates (coffee, swinging, and groceries at 5 Points, Mama’s Boy when they still served dinner), my apartment in which we now reside, and all that we shared in those walls, especially that summer.

Modern Skirts are coming to an end this year. This was the band I saw most in my college years, the band that spurred love and so many memories. Their last 40 Watt show brought so many of those memories back to mind. While I’ll miss their shows and music immensely, it somehow seems fitting for this moment, when so much is ending and beginning. I’ll be 30 next year, and I’ll be a married man finally holding down a career (meaning the first job that uses my college degree I’ll be holding for more than a year). I don’t know what that means yet, but I’m ready to be done with my twenties and onto new beginnings. I’m ready to reclaim my idealism, even if it means the occasional self-indulgent blog blabbering about how I love I am with the world and the people I share it with. I promise it won’t be too often. I can’t be 20 all the time. I have work to do. And that makes me happy, too.

Confident. That she would love to start a brand new.

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