by Matthew Brewes on Saturday, July 14, 2007 at 8:24pm

Staring at a blank page. I have pen and paper, all I need now are the words. So where do I start? I’m 27 years old. I have a wife. I have a daughter who is 2 years old. I’m living in a small city in middle America. I never pictured myself here. The thing is, looking back, did I ever really picture myself anywhere? Is that the myth? When you’re 17, or 19, or 21 do you really ever envision yourself in a life? I wanted to be a professional writer, but I don’t think I ever really envisioned where I’d be or with whom or in what context. Nobody really daydreams about the banal, routine moments. You picture yourself in a career, saving lives, making deals, doing the talk show circuit but not what appartment you’re going to be living in or what joe job you might have to hold down.

I think it’s a disturbing fiction. You make all these decisions waiting for real life to start then look back and realize those decisions are your life. You find yourself doing the laundry and changing diapers with a 40 year mortgage. Not that these are bad things, but did you really intend for them to happen, or are they justwhat happend while you were waiting for something else? Is it ever really possible to know the answer to this? I’ll probably never figure it out.

I have a good job. I have a wife who loves me, understands me (most of the time) and is perfectly willing to put up with my shit. I have a daughter who is honestly the most beautiful, intelligent and wonderous child in the whole world. I pay my bills, have a good house and friends that are there for me when I need them. So really, could that other life that I might have had be any better than the one I have? I’ll never know. The questions, doubts, the “what ifs” and sometimes regrets will always be there, I’m sure, but in the end, really I have to admit that I didn’t fuck up as badly as I could have…

via 11/13/06.


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