I sit here on my sexy titanium colored laptop as the clock ticks closer to that magical hour where Santa flies around the world and the birth of Jesus is upon us. I sit here in a town where I can see the stars and if I breath deeply enough smell the ocean. After 6 hours of socializing with immediate and not so immediate family (given that I am Italian). I mean six hours (or even more) of eating seven fishes and more chocolate than I should have, drinking wine (and Gin when it called for it), exchanging stories and presents, and playing with kids who are truly the real reason of Christmas. Maybe it is the suburban air, or the six hours of family relationships, or the fact that my cell phone has died from lack of battery charge leaving me feeling in deep isolation in "America," but something has me a bit emotionally woozy. I really somehow believe that I can feel the stress (of just living in NYC) and all of those little annoyances of my everyday life seeping out of me like a Chelsea boy sweating in the gym steam shower.
Maybe it is sleeping in the house that I grew up in, under my parents roof. Or driving around town and seeing where I used to ride my bike, have my first ever alcoholic drink, or hang with my friends in high school talking about our "big" dreams in life. Or maybe it is the peaceful calmness that is Bristol, a town adorned with Colonial houses sitting on the bay and dating back to the Revolution (one of those justified wars we used to talk about). Maybe I am losing my mind as I sit here gazing into my Apple wondering if life in NYC or anywhere else in the world is just a distraction from what life actually is. I really feel like I have asked myself about a million times in the last 3 weeks, "Am I Happy?" Is this what I should be doing or want to be doing? Is this going to fulfill me for now, for the next ten or forty years?
And for the first time to ever pass through my head, I felt that lil twinge/spark/nausea inside where I wanted a child. I mean, even I was horrified at the thought, and my absolute annoyance towards other peoples children will not be subsiding when I get back to the city. I will never step aside for a woman and a baby carriage. I am sorry, but seriously, she isn't gods gift and neither is her child. But, I felt it!! A boy, for sure. I want to see him grow. I want to teach him everything that I have learned about life. I want to stand there as he realizes his interests and his dreams. I want him to be a punk. To lash out. To grab attention. To be out of control and blissfully happy. To see him see Christmas as the most exciting thing in life for all of the years he does.
I want to feel that I did something in my life. Standing in a bar hoping for a boyfriend or a trick for the night isn't going to do it. Doing it for fun while I am 25 is one thing, doing it for the next 25 years is another. The great big carousel of life just keeps spinning, but when you ultimately get off you have to ask yourself, was it everything I hoped for?