Topic 6: Sunrise.
I've seen a lot of sunrises.
For some people, being awake to see the sun come up means it's been a long, crazy night. Hours of wild antics, potentially alcohol-induced. For others, it's far more symbolic. The dawn of a new period in life with a special person. The kind of stuff that makes me want to puke, because I'm no romantic.
For me, it's somewhere in the middle. The last time I was out late doing anything other people would find remotely objectionable, I was home far before the sun came up. And I don't know anything about that other stuff. I've never been in a relationship. There's never been one person with whom I'd want to share that experience. And I still think it's a little too sappy-stereotypical-traditional for me. Personally, seeing a sunrise reminds me of good times spent with good friends. Whether we pulled an all-nighter at Denny's, playing cards and drinking coffee, or whether I spent a few hours online talking to a friend across the country and suddenly it was 6AM.
Something about the wee morning hours inspires a strong bond. Maybe it's because everyone's tired (so long as we're not talking about nocturnal folks). Inhibitions are lowered. Often the truth comes out more quickly than usual. The emotions tend to be raw and the opinions unfiltered, and fuck, I love that. We should be like that more often. The conversations I've had at sunrise have been the most honest and real I've ever experienced, and I can safely say they've most accurately represented who I am. There's a certain point at which one loses all pretense. The walls begin to come down and we can't even be bothered to censor ourselves. That's what I think of when I think of a sunrise.
But it's all been missing for me lately. The people I've spent many of those sunrises with are no longer in my life. Time changes things. Distance changes things. And I've been spending so much of my time lately worrying about how I present myself. Worrying about what to say, what to do. Trying to jackhammer the walls down instead of letting them erode naturally. I miss how easy it can be when I don't feel like I need to apologize, when I don't feel like I need an excuse to be myself. Too worried about acceptance, because I think if I'm accepted, I'll be less alone. But that isn't always the case.
I'm ready for another sunrise. But is anyone willing to experience it with me?
For some people, being awake to see the sun come up means it's been a long, crazy night. Hours of wild antics, potentially alcohol-induced. For others, it's far more symbolic. The dawn of a new period in life with a special person. The kind of stuff that makes me want to puke, because I'm no romantic.
For me, it's somewhere in the middle. The last time I was out late doing anything other people would find remotely objectionable, I was home far before the sun came up. And I don't know anything about that other stuff. I've never been in a relationship. There's never been one person with whom I'd want to share that experience. And I still think it's a little too sappy-stereotypical-traditional for me. Personally, seeing a sunrise reminds me of good times spent with good friends. Whether we pulled an all-nighter at Denny's, playing cards and drinking coffee, or whether I spent a few hours online talking to a friend across the country and suddenly it was 6AM.
Something about the wee morning hours inspires a strong bond. Maybe it's because everyone's tired (so long as we're not talking about nocturnal folks). Inhibitions are lowered. Often the truth comes out more quickly than usual. The emotions tend to be raw and the opinions unfiltered, and fuck, I love that. We should be like that more often. The conversations I've had at sunrise have been the most honest and real I've ever experienced, and I can safely say they've most accurately represented who I am. There's a certain point at which one loses all pretense. The walls begin to come down and we can't even be bothered to censor ourselves. That's what I think of when I think of a sunrise.
But it's all been missing for me lately. The people I've spent many of those sunrises with are no longer in my life. Time changes things. Distance changes things. And I've been spending so much of my time lately worrying about how I present myself. Worrying about what to say, what to do. Trying to jackhammer the walls down instead of letting them erode naturally. I miss how easy it can be when I don't feel like I need to apologize, when I don't feel like I need an excuse to be myself. Too worried about acceptance, because I think if I'm accepted, I'll be less alone. But that isn't always the case.
I'm ready for another sunrise. But is anyone willing to experience it with me?