04 September 2004

I used to think that someday, everything would be okay. I've come to the realization, after far too long, that that's one of the most ridiculous things anybody CAN think. Really, it's a waste of life.

I met this guy one time, this old man who'd written a couple of books and spent the equivalent of several lifetimes doing relatively interesting things, who stood in front of my classroom and told everyone in the room that there was no future. Not in a Sex Pistols sort of way: "no future, no future for you... etc..." He meant that there is absolutely no such thing as the future. It's a concept that some jackass came up with, a term useful in political rhetoric, but one without any basis in actual reality.

I thought I'd humor the guy, since he was pretty smart and he'd written some books, and he was one of those old dudes who honestly comes off as "wise" rather than as a "senior citizen." I thought: okay, fine, I'll go along with that for the duration of this lecture... For the sake of argument, I'll pretend there's no such thing as the future...

But I've realized that he was right.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up to be a mailman. Or an astronaut. Later, I wanted to grow up to be a writer. And a psychiatrist. Then I thought about maybe being a teacher. For a brief time, I thought of being an AIDS researcher.

(An aside note: may I be struck dead in a horrendously painful way if I ever decide to go into psychiatry for ANY purpose other than deconstructing most of the field of modern psychiatry...)

When I was really young, I used to play this game where I'd try to divine what my future husband would be like. He was always kinda taller than me, with very dark hair, and usually he had blue eyes. I thought maybe we'd live by the sea. And we'd have a fireplace.

I would imagine my husband and I on a typical day... I'd go to work and, like, deliver mail, or discover a new antibody, or whatever... And then I'd come home (I never could quite picture what, exactly, my husband would be doing all this time; it never really concerned me...), and we'd... oh, walk by the sea, or eat dinner next to the fireplace, or some such thing.

Honestly, the whole fantasy was really rather dull. And I damn well KNEW it was dull, and that upset me quite a bit. I couldn't think of how to spice it up, really. For a long time, I didn't want to ever get married (probably at LEAST until I was 20 or so...), and for a long time I didn't want to have a career. It all just seemed so boring. Wake up, go to work, come home, exchange mushy words with husband, perform some inane activity with husband, go to sleep. I didn't really expect that there could be more than that. And so I dreaded the future.

Through a series of jobs, and a series of boyfriends, I came to dread the future even more.

I imagined myself as a clerk in a gas station at thirty-five. I imagined myself spending the rest of my life with somebody whose heart was elsewhere. I would look around my life and see kind of a shitty existence, and I would think: no, someday this will all be better...

For the most part, I couldn't imagine HOW it would be better, just that it would be.

I thought: things will be better when I go to Santa Fe. I thought: things will be better when I go home again after Santa Fe. I thought: things will be better once he stops cheating on me. I thought: things will be better when I have more money. I thought: things will be better when I am published.

I do not believe any of these things anymore.

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Jake and I were together, I frequently used to imagine how the rest of our lives might be together. It wasn't so bad, really. We'd have enough money. We'd have an adorable kid or two. He'd have his career and I'd have mine. We'd have a little house of some sort. That's where I always got stuck. Jake liked Florida. Or Texas. I refused to live anywhere without water and hills. Thus, in my fantasy of my life with Jake, I only ever pictured the inside of our house. I had a problem with the career thing, too... Jake wanted to do federal firefighting, because there was a lot of money in it, and it was a job in which it's easy to look like a hero without expending any energy you're not trained to expend. I wanted to write, and to teach. I didn't have any interest in firefighting, or heroics, and I was reasonably sure that I'd eventually get bored with hearing about the physical properties of different kinds of fires. And Jake didn't have much interest in the English language aside from its most functional uses. I imagined that, in twenty years, we would have stopped speaking entirely. Not because we'd be giving each other a resentful sort of "silent treatment," but because we'd have nothing of interest to say to each other.

I thought that there MUST be something, though... Something we'd both enjoy. Something we could both get excited about. We did both like travelling, and driving around, and arguing political and philosophical stuff. The travelling was kind of iffy, because we never could agree on where we'd go. The driving around was fun, but I was somewhat concerned that it wouldn't sustain an entire relationship. The arguing was always fun, too, except that Jake didn't argue fair, and he refused to lose, which was just shitty, and ended up pissing me off almost every single time. And anyway, when I thought about it, there were things about Jake that I genuinely disliked. No, not even just "disliked." More like despised. I thought: someday, he will change. And I will change. And we will come to like each other. And I will come to appreciate fire-fighting as an artform. I will find more value in "saving" people. He would learn to people-watch, and to appreciate punctuation as a sort of musical notation, rather than just a utilitarian bit of knowledge your high school teachers beat into you. And then, things would be good, and we'd get married, and live happily ever after. We'd really fall madly in love with each other, and we'd honestly like each other, and everything would be perfect.

* * * * * * * * * * *

That didn't happen.

I realized, probably about a year ago, that it wasn't going to happen.

But really, I didn't think I could expect anything much better.

This is probably true. The old man who didn't think there was a future, also believed that there were no such things as expectations. Hope, certainly, but not expectations.

* * * * * * * * * * *

This is it. This is as good as it is EVER going to get. There is no utopia. There is no one day that is going to come along that's going to be perfect. And even if it did, it wouldn't last. Wishing for "someday" is wishing for stasis. And there is no such thing as stasis. I don't think that this was the old man's reasoning, but it's mine. Not only is there no such thing as stasis, but even if there were such a thing, it would be awfully damned boring. This was the problem I always had with my fantasies about the future. They were fucking boring.

* * * * * * * * * * *

This is it. This is my life.

I do not look forward to becoming married, although it will be more efficient as far as explaining the nature of the relationship between Neil and myself.

I do not look forward to getting a job as a teacher. I do not even look forward to having my book published.

I do not look forward to "someday" having more money, although I kind of hope I can afford to eat without having to rely on the good fortune of finding money in the road.

I try not even to look forward to Neil and I having our own home together, although that's pretty difficult.

This is it. This is as good as it will ever get. There IS no such thing as "someday." If I were not happy now, very few of these external "someday" things would really be able to change that.

Luckily, I am pretty fucking happy.

* * * * * * * * * * *

On Thursday morning, I got to wake up in Neil's arms for the first time. It was like waking up to find the missing half of my soul glued securely back in place. For the first time in my entire life, I had no fear about the future. I had no thoughts of the future at all. I suppose someday I will die, and perhaps someday I'll make enough money to have to pay taxes. But for the most part, when I woke up and saw the eyes of my beloved smiling at me, I couldn't see any future at all. I didn't NEED to see any future. There was no need to wish for anything more. This was my life: holding the loves of my life, one in my arms and one in my womb, and smiling.

And not every moment since then has been as wonderful as that one. Yesterday I dropped a jar out of my grocery cart in the parking lot and it smushed all over. Last night I got woken up by some raucousness, and was feeling kind of cranky and frustrated. But I couldn't possibly forget the feeling of knowing that it's senseless to really worry about things like that. I had known, for just a moment, that nothing matters EXCEPT moments. And I know it now, and I don't think I'll stop knowing it for awhile. There is a sense of serenity in all of that, that I'm not sure I've ever felt before.

* * * * * * * * * * *

At this moment, which is the only one that really matters, I am sitting at Neil's computer, typing. I am wearing white pajamas and I think there must be a bag of incense in the desk here somewhere, because the scent is almost overwhelming. A really irritating cold sore has appeared on the inside of my lip, and I'm trying not to fuck with it. I am thinking about a number of things, including American politics, space travel, pudding, secret languages, and hyponatremia. I can hear Neil's breathing from here. He fell asleep in his chair and every few minutes I glance over at him and my heart does a little floppy thing. He is the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life. I am thinking mournfully that it's very hard to hold somebody when they're sleeping in a chair. The baby is kicking at me, just little fluttery kicks at the moment. For this moment, she has ceased to play her favorite game, which is entitled Fun with Mom's Bladder. I am thirsty. My hair feels like an oil slick and I am thinking I ought to take a shower after I find something to drink and make some pudding...

This is my life. I am delighted it is this good.

~H.T.*