Green

Bellingham has been gorgeous this week. My second runs on the rolling hills in ferndale at sunset are remarkable. I was apprehensive. There's something about the gray I really enjoy. Maybe because it keeps me in the dark long enough that when the sun sets in variance, it really does feel like magic; I can witness it in a way that would have escaped me before. I've always tried to keep conscious of not taking something or someone for granted. It takes constant awareness, but I think once the root of the need to do so is established, it's always there, in the back of your mind.

I find most things are fleeting, including feelings, or people who are out of touch with theirs. In existence it can seem to take forever to reach a minute and in minutes everything can change. And somehow because of all this, we've adopted an alternate route of the-grass-is-greener as a means of constant stimulation, relieving jealousy or feelings of inadequacy, or submitting to curiosity. I've been in that space of mind before where I wonder if what I'm doing or who I'm doing it with is best for me, for Now, for The Future; this is healthy enough unless it consumes you, creating within an urgency to make a move because you can't deal with the gray. It's easy to obsess over the things we have no control over, so we try to predict, form, force an outcome just to see movement. I feel this, I want stimulation all the time, I want travel and plans, activities and vivacity. I think that people react too quickly these days, punish each other for indecision, think that somewhere out there, something's got to be better, easier, more exciting. It's really hard when you're on the other end - upon which you have to think about how to revitalize your own sad pasture to be the sickest, most sexy pasture ever.

Once in high school a boyfriend told me, "Don't play on the field if the grass isn't mowed." He whispered this in passing with a coy smile, and I was like, "duhh fuck?" I asked my friends what it meant; they didn't know. I remember thinking, "Does it have something to do with grass is greener? Do I need to work on myself?" I think I Ask-Jeeves'd it, to find that it was an insinuation of shaving my merkin before I could possibly be ready for below the belt action. Then, he broke up with me so he could hook up with my friend who had a more experienced field. Thankfully, I never felt bad about my pasture then; it just made me feel like people were assholes.
I got older, more sure of myself, with a bigger perve-lexicon. Sometimes I wondered why it seemed someone could have it "easier" than me. How someone could intrinsically know what they wanted to "be" as they grew, where steadfast "black and white" statements were made. I wanted to absorb some of this, be "easier." In this, I started to feel bad about myself. It's taken a while, but I think it's best for me to be me, and if that is someone who is not easy, then fuck the other grasses, this grass is my shit.

Trust that I've been stuck in the past, wondering what my life would be like if ________ or if ________. The same goes for the future. These are contemplations of greener grasses. But you take my word for it: if you're a part of my life, there will be nothing more interesting to me than you, even if I forget for a minute, I will never sacrifice you, despite that minute. And, I'm apt to find someone who would do the exact same thing for me.