Now, finally, I was silent. You don’t. No more banana peppers to crunch, no more unpitted olives to gnaw on. I picked up a package of Saltines and stared down hard at my plastic task of unwrapping.
"But I thought you were going to teach me how to transition to the next phase of my life," I begged.
"I never did," Jack answered. "It’s as if someone accidentally died and I never got the chance to say what I wanted to say . . . to say good-bye."
Thanks for tagging me. I enjoyed this.
There were a couple parts that stood out to me, but this more than others for reasons that aren't really about running. At the risk of oversharing: I'm 36, single, and living alone with my two cats. In my formative years, I thought I would grow up, have a job, get married, have kids. It isn't what I thought I wanted; it's what I thought everyone did. I wasn't in favor of it, and I wasn't against it. That path was like a third inevitability along with death and taxes. But now as I move through the ages where people do things like that, I find myself comfortable on a different path. There were times where I was angry internally, where I was frustrated by myself. When I look back on my 20s, I think I did enough. I think when I look back on these last few years, I'll feel similarly. What I did was ok.