Out of the Woods
*Written to "Out of the Woods" by Ryan Adams. Listen while you read here if you'd like.*
Each morning I feel like i’m on the brink of discovering something that will make it all come together. LIfe, work, love...It will all just *click* and happen perfectly.
Every night I feel more and more confused. Life, work, love, it just...happens.
There was this moment where I was standing on the stairs near the capitol building here in Salt Lake City. I had almost made this large leap in a part of my life, but not quite. I had no one to turn to really. How would anyone understand if I couldn’t even understand it myself?
I looked around. The sun was turning the sky an auburn, and the buildings silhouetting the sky looked just like buildings in a city do at sunset: rough, permanent, bold. I ran my fingers through my hair, out of breath at what seemed like the top of the world really.
It was one of those moments in life you realize you have nothing figured out. Nothing. At. All. And what’s worse is that I thought I might have something figured out, but I was wrong. And now the entire world seemed to be laughing. Joke’s on me, I guess.
And there are those cool moments where you look at the sky and lift your arms up and say, “I know nothing at all! And that’s cool! And no one else knows either! And that’s life! Woo!”
But this wasn’t one of those moments.
I sat down on the steps with my knees softly pressing up against my chest and I let my head fall into my hands. I felt defeated. By what or who and at what game, I still have no idea.
There was no one that I could think of and wish they were next to me.
There was no place that I could think of and wish I was there.
There was no goal in sight that I could think of and feel motivated.
There was no words of advice or quote that I wanted to pull up and read aloud.
There was just...nothing.
I felt like I was staring at one of those math problems that fill the board in those movies like Good Will Hunting, where Matt Damon is a janitor but is actually really good at math. Except… the math problem was my life...and I wasn’t good at math, and I certainly wasn’t Matt Damon. I was just… me.
I couldn’t think of a fix. What would make it better? Could I call my best friend? Could I talk to my sister? Could I daydream about a boy? Could I write? Could I anything?
All I could do was sit. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t anything.
I wasn’t anything.
I felt like I was so close to realizing something about the beauty of simplicity. I thought I was learning about myself. I thought I might have realized I didn't need any tomorrow if I had tonight.
I thought that when you looked at me and you smiled. We didn’t need anything else. I thought that I was enough.
But I wasn’t anything.