It’s 2 am, and you’re sitting up in bed, wondering why you can’t get to sleep. You’re eating what’s become a newfound obsession- mixed berry yogurt. It’s creamy and you’re letting it sit on your tongue a moment, savoring it, before swallowing. You can feel the stickiness on your lips, and you run your tongue over it. It’s amazing, but…you’re a little annoyed that there are very few berries in this carton.
You’re drinking warm water and honey in a tiny mug. It was supposed to warm you up in this frigid climate. You drain the cup and try to get all the honey into your mouth. The little bit that refused to mix with the water is slowly inching its way. It reminds you of days spent as a kid, thinking it was the best drink ever made. But it’s not the same… It’s not that cold in the room anymore. And you can’t mix honey and water quite as well as your dad could.
You’re listening to old sappy songs in your dimly lit bedroom. Songs you grew up to, that you would hate to be caught listening to now. And you realize that you still like them. You’re buried under your sheets, with the solitary lamp casting weird shadows on the ceiling. You’re watching them and letting the music just wash over you. Mulling over memories of how you were as a kid. When the music was a fad you just had to listen to. When it didn’t mean anything. It’s different today… it’s not just memories. It’s what you thought would have been normal. You never dreamed that what they were singing about would never come true.
You suppose you’ve become that person always looking for the anti-thesis of silver linings.
