I walked for 5 hours, 13-14 miles all over my hometown. I walked through the hills, got lost a few times, through the streets and to the parks we went to. There were many times I faded in and out between dialogues with myself and just thinking oh that’s pretty. The gem of these 5 hours was making this distinction between hope and expectations. I think hope is when you’d like for something to happen knowing fully well it might not happen. But who cares it makes you happy and it makes you do things you wouldn’t normally. Expectation is then this firm, obstinate grip on something absolutely happening. Of course that rarely, if never happens. And I think I spent much of my life expecting rather than hoping. With my big wish is coming up, I have to just hope!
My pessimistic voice tells me better to not hope because I’ve let this hurt me so many times. But fuck that voice because that’s just weakness. I’ll always hope and I’ll always do things based on those hopes because I think that’s what makes me extraordinary. I’m not afraid of being hurt. You can’t hurt me whatever you choose because I made this choice. I’ve loved every moment of it. The nights when I stayed up smiling, thinking about what will happen. The times I let myself cry in front of others. The adventures I’ve had, pushing myself beyond my fears. The times I wrote for you. The planning and the failures of those planning. How everything went wrong, but how I won’t give up. The times I’ve retraced our steps. It’s all coming together, and I can’t help feeling hopeful.
The worst of the trip was walking down that walkway to Rowland Park, and this fucker kid had his dick out, snapping a pic of it. Jesus. Why? You couldn’t go to the bathroom? You had to get the right amount of sunlight? Had to get some grass in the background. And now that’s burned into my memory. Fuck you. Haha.
The best part! I had my stuffed backpack in front of me and this dad carrying his baby saw me. He thought I had a baby too, and I was like shit you must have thought my baby was this complete fatass bigger than my torso. He laughed and said he thought I was still carrying around a 5 year old. Anyways, it was nice hearing Ben’s ideas of fatherhood. The more people I ask about it, the more it sounds like this incredible experience. Something to look forward to, I suppose.
I reached home at sunset, too exhausted to be sad. I played with Roscoe and Chili. They wanted to play with me some more but I went upstairs to nap. Is that what it feels like to be a neglectful parent haha. Sometimes when I throw treats to Chili to stop his howling, I wonder if I’ll have overweight kids. Here’s your Mcdonalds stop squealing. I left home late in the night and I remember Roscoe looking sad. He kept trying to see where I was going. Sorry buddy, I’m being selfish when I leave. I can’t seem to be comfortable at my old home. I wonder if he remembers you. And I wonder if Halo and Bebe remember me.
This. This speaks to me. Haha this was me a week or so ago. Maybe I’m stupid or something. Well I’ll know soon enough.