Today I found myself feeling very anti-social and melancholy and consequently walking around Walnut Creek again. I arrived just about 45 minutes prior to sunset and when I began walking I paced myself so that I could enjoy the sunset from the path on east side of the lake looking west.
Most of the music that came up on shuffle tonight was not inspirational, until the very last turn when Soma by the Smashing Pumpkins came on and I thought to myself, “No more appropriate song to serenade the sunset for me tonight”. As I rounded that last corner, still walking east I kept peering behind me hoping I was not going to miss the final dip into the horizon. I didn’t. I even walked off the path toward the lake to have a seat in the grass and revel in the glory of the final minutes and seconds of the suns light as it disappeared from the sky.
I’ve always been captivated by the sunrise and sunset. I’ve always felt a certain tug from nature and a desire to make those events my number one priority in the instances the opportunities are near. I’ll drive in the wrong direction to have a better view. I will go out of my way to get to a higher vantage point or spend extra time waiting even if there is somewhere else I am supposed to be. There is just something special about witnessing the sunset. Something that just can’t compare to most things really.
It’s an acknowledgement of the cyclical nature of things and the significance and insignificance of everything we see and feel in this world. It brings about reflection about ones place in the universe and a peace that is complex and masterful. It’s a reminder of the variability of life and the cynical nature of time. The sun sets ever so slowly but is gone in the blink of an eye. As with life it is both quick and long and as long as I am able, I will continue to seek out these moments, these moments that happen every day but are also so few and far between. I want to sing to the sun “Nothing left to say; And All I’ve left to do; Is Run away from you”. It’s part of the nature of me. Some sort of hopeless romantic.
But what does the hopeless in hopeless romantic really mean? The very terminology is quite ironic as someone who is blessed or cursed with this affliction as I am knows, “hopeless” really means bound forever to hope. Hopeless in the way that there is no escaping from the hope of the grand ideals of romance. The endless daydream of something that is a kin to a fairy-tale story for the loves they may have in their life. Its a grandiose escape from reality. Some notion that the one true love of ones life is a perfect match that will sweep them off their feet and that life together will be bliss.
Not only that, but that every day will be one after the next of stolen kisses and holding hands and long walks and talks by the lake at sunset. Real life persists, but love conquers all. There is nothing hopeless about any of that, save the constant flutter that can’t be satisfied in ones heart at the thought of some of these daydreams coming true.
I blame this quality in myself for my inability to make connections with people I’ve met… because I’m hoping for something more. I described the other night how I felt when I first laid eyes on Matt and how I don’t really want to settle for anything less. If I dial it back a few years before that, I had the same feeling about another person, when they put their arm around me late in the night after driving me home from a party. And going back further still, way back to the beginning of my dating days when I first began speaking to Brian and felt that spark of something more. I know what it feels like and so now I will not settle for less.
I can say I have had it genuinely only once with the new people I have met recently and I’m having a hard time separating that or distilling it down to know if what I am feeling is real, or if it is just the fact that I want so badly to feel it. Are my daydreams getting the best of me or can there possibly be something more there? I’m hopeful and therefore I am hopeless. You see how ironic that is?
So it’s 10PM now and I’ve had a glass or two of wine on this fine Saturday evening. I’d decided hours ago that I wanted to spend the evening alone with my thoughts so I could try and gain some clarity in several areas. Ironic again because clarity does not present itself easily when wine is involved. A good night sleep probably won’t either, but I have all day tomorrow to relax and recover if I don’t sleep well. Hell, I have all day tomorrow and the next and the next and the one after that if I need it. So bring on another glass and let the daydreaming continue.