Restoration.
It has been so long since I have been able to get over my utter melancholy for the state of the union and even attempt to grasp at any kind of hope for change and prosperity. I haven't written a single word about it since that cold day, four Novembers ago-strike that, I have written words, but never got around to finishing one complete sentence. I was so overcome with hopelessness and defeat that I stopped allowing politics to be even a small part of my identity, I couldn't even recall how it felt to be the opinionated, revolutionary person that I used to be before I lost all hope for the people of this country. It's weird to think of how that was all I cared about back in 2003, when I was a senior in high school and should have been focusing on SATs, prom dresses and college admissions. Now, at a time in my life that it would make sense for such things to be a huge part of my identity-I'd found that I could not let myself get my hopes up ever again-not only that, I was completely convinced that this country didn't want change, that it was made up of a majority of complete idiots that elected George W. Bush... TWICE! Well, maybe not the first time, really. But you get my point.
So when it came time once again for the presidential games to begin-I allowed myself to pick a favorite, but nothing more than that. I had built up a wall around myself, there was no way I was going to pour my heart in soul into a candidate or a cause and see it all come crashing down around me again. The last time that happened, it had fallen so hard and so suddenly and without warning that I was plunged into a couple years of deep, dark, blissful ignorance-by choice-and then when I had finally awoken from this coma, I had felt more disappointed and ashamed of myself than I had ever felt in my life. I wasn't going to chance possibly going back to that dark place, so I subconsciously saw everything pessimistically. I was convinced that nothing was ever really going to change. There would always be something there to ruin any progressive plans. At least this way, I could sleep at night.
And I did sleep. Every night. Maybe I needed this rest after all.
Today, on November 5, 2008-my 23rd birthday-I woke up. Out of nowhere, with no warning, I was alive again. The life returned to my eyes, and what I saw was CNN News telling me that Barrack Obama was the next president of the United States of America. I pinched myself, and sure enough, I wasn't dreaming, in fact, this had been the first time I had been fully awake since the last election results were sprawled across the TV screen on CNN. All the hope I once had, all of the faith I had in the preservation of this country and its ideals, it was all suddenly restored. It was as though the storm had passed, and the sun was just rising for the first time since, and with that all the damage that had been caused didn't look so permanent and rebuilding actually seemed possible in this light. Suddenly everything was okay. I knew we would make it through. And a noble feeling set in, of being a part of something that would go down in history, of knowing that this day will forever be remembered because something good will come of it.
I never thought I would be here again, but now that I have returned I realize how much I missed everything. I will never leave this place again, because now it's been proven to me that the outcome is not always for the worse. This day came right when it should have, and for that I am thankful.
So when it came time once again for the presidential games to begin-I allowed myself to pick a favorite, but nothing more than that. I had built up a wall around myself, there was no way I was going to pour my heart in soul into a candidate or a cause and see it all come crashing down around me again. The last time that happened, it had fallen so hard and so suddenly and without warning that I was plunged into a couple years of deep, dark, blissful ignorance-by choice-and then when I had finally awoken from this coma, I had felt more disappointed and ashamed of myself than I had ever felt in my life. I wasn't going to chance possibly going back to that dark place, so I subconsciously saw everything pessimistically. I was convinced that nothing was ever really going to change. There would always be something there to ruin any progressive plans. At least this way, I could sleep at night.
And I did sleep. Every night. Maybe I needed this rest after all.
Today, on November 5, 2008-my 23rd birthday-I woke up. Out of nowhere, with no warning, I was alive again. The life returned to my eyes, and what I saw was CNN News telling me that Barrack Obama was the next president of the United States of America. I pinched myself, and sure enough, I wasn't dreaming, in fact, this had been the first time I had been fully awake since the last election results were sprawled across the TV screen on CNN. All the hope I once had, all of the faith I had in the preservation of this country and its ideals, it was all suddenly restored. It was as though the storm had passed, and the sun was just rising for the first time since, and with that all the damage that had been caused didn't look so permanent and rebuilding actually seemed possible in this light. Suddenly everything was okay. I knew we would make it through. And a noble feeling set in, of being a part of something that would go down in history, of knowing that this day will forever be remembered because something good will come of it.
I never thought I would be here again, but now that I have returned I realize how much I missed everything. I will never leave this place again, because now it's been proven to me that the outcome is not always for the worse. This day came right when it should have, and for that I am thankful.