But whatever I may say, it’s not that terrible of a place. Not all the time anyways, but I must say, Texas has it out for me, whether it be the drivers or the women, I could swear that it’s trying to get me. It was a short five hour drive down to Denton with a wonderful (albeit accidental) trip through Hwy. 75. Denton’s a pretty nice place, a medium sized town surrounded by what seems like miles and miles of flat nothingness. Nice place otherwise. I took up residence in the Hilton 6, which gave me a magnificent view of the Waffle House and Denny’s. How cool is that?! A nap, a shower, a shave, and P shows up. Great guy, nice car, good disposition, gonna be a good night. We leave my palace in search of that golden ambrosia which only the most respected establishments can provide, and head to our semi-final destination.
It’s amazing how many ‘different’ people you see in the world. You grow up your whole life meeting certain people who become your friends, your enemies, your lovers, your angels…And that all seems perfectly normal to you. You don’t think twice about why or how or what. You just know that this is as it is.
But then you become an outsider of sorts when you travel. You’re not the usual. They’re not the usual. You view things differently, see the small differences that separate the people you like from the people you love. You meet people that remind you of your own friends, small differences, important differences, but the reminder is there. You know these people. You know how they’ll react. You can almost pinpoint their mannerisms just based on what you’ve experienced with a different group of people.
Are we all that predictable?
Are we all that similar?
No.
Similarities aside, the differences are blatantly obvious. Humans are made of so many different templates that we will always run across people with similar interests, peeves, loves and hates, but never the all the same ones. Those are the small things. The things that set us apart.
The imperfections that make us what we are every day.
Alcohol brings this knowledge out at the most inopportune times.
It makes you miss home quite quickly, but the question is, how much exactly does home miss you? While driving through Louisiana today, I started to think; What makes a person missed? It’s a simple answer for a simple question. The companionship, the accessibility, the sureness.
But there is always another answer, a more difficult answer, to a more difficult question.
What makes a person truly missed?
People miss the easy times. People miss things that make their lives easier, more comfortable, luxurious. I go through the faces and the names. How is your life harder now? How is it worse? For each of you there is an answer. One or two. Not at all, or a little bit. When you truly look at it, you each have your companions right there, usually at arms reach, if not a few minutes of travel. Smile. You’ve lost little, and those that would truly make your lives more difficult to get along without will be there with you tomorrow. Realize that you have it made. Consistency, something only a few search for, something those few often do not find.
People strive on change. You’re cursed with monotony.
People strive for regularity. Your life is bound to become a cluttered mess.
For those of you who do have a true need for an opus in your life; I always come back. I do not abandon things so easily. Sure, I let them settle on their own, strive for their own way, to see if that need still remains. Everything will go as it was set out, myself present or not.
I know I will have a friend when I get back. Just remember that you have a friend no matter where I am.
Who I am.
Who.
Who?
I miss my puppy.
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