A Work in Progress

Dear America,

How are you? I'm doing terrible, but don't worry, I'm working on it. Considering we've entered a new year, I would've thought that maybe we'd have a chance for a fresh start, but I think we both know that's not really true. A new year doesn't mean a new beginning (with the exception of getting another Playboy pin-up calendar), it merely means a continuation and new chapter of a story that started long ago. The baggage of history transcends time, and no matter how many balls drop at midnight, someone has to carry it onward.

I suppose that we can use this time to re-inventory that baggage though. Is that girl's number worth keeping in that back pocket? Do the memories of a hope at what could've been need to go on? The sentimental sap in me would argue that I should be a hoarder of the highest order, but life's a little like an airline where they only let you carry so much. The trunk is damn near-full, so something needs to be put in the rear-view mirror before I step on the gas.

What are you planning to leave behind? I think we all want to put this pandemic behind us, but part of me thinks it wasn't all that bad. Sure, a merciless disease that kills people kind of sucks, but I think we all learned a lot about ourselves while being forced into isolation. If only one could fragment history so that the pain could be forgotten while the lessons are retained... Sometimes the pain is necessary though.

This all reminds me of a certain conversation I had with a certain lady in a dark ristorante in Manhattan on one particularly chilly afternoon. Naturally, we talked about you (she says "hi" by the way), but we also discussed the possibility of going back in time and completely undoing what would later become one of those painful memories. Being the emotionally naïve person that I am, I was quick to pounce on one particular relationship. 

"I'd be better off if I'd never met them." I said.

I hadn't seen them in years at that point, and there was no way of knowing that I would see them again one year later. Even the baggage we leave behind sometimes comes back to slap into our front bumper though. You can't entirely escape your past, although you can totally run from it...for a while at least. Life is a work in progress, and although it may have chapters, it does not start anew because it's January. Leave behind what you can, but don't be surprised if it catches you when you least expect it.

Sincerely,

Calhoun