Always Worth It.

Life is an abundance of moments. All webbed together, catching all who come into our lives. Some manage to escape, others, they get to stick around, even if we have to leave what we woven for a while.

I turn thirty five on Friday, and for better or for worse, I feel I've lived so many lifetimes in these last three and half decades. When I think back on the years I’ve spent in various places, it’s as if I died each time I left one of them. I’m not sure how the passage of time truly works, but it can be cruel and terrifying at times. For many years I have been desperate for time to heal wounds made by the loss of people and places, while all the while equally wishing I could have them back.

What is that?

Why is that?

Why the torture of wanting nothing more but to move on, while forever wishing you never had to? I want so badly to find the lesson in that, as to better my life in the coming years, but honestly, I don’t think any logic would change the dichotomy of the situation.

I suppose that’s the torment of life. The sacrifice we make by falling in love, and, suffering the loss of falling out of it. Of moving away from places, and friends, and family. Even if we know, without a doubt, it’s a move we must make. I suppose some things throughout the history of humanity never change — giving yourself to others will always result in heartbreak of some kind, and yet, it is somehow always worth it.

I feel tenured in experience, I suppose, but I hope as I move into the next thirty five years (if it pleases the court) I get to be reborn into giving of myself to new life. To new love. To a new abundance of moments. No matter the heartbreak, or possibility of having to move on, or bury, or search again.

It’s always worth it. It will always be worth it.