It’s funny how much you can realize who you aren’t the more you lose things. You know you aren’t someone who is in a relationship when you lose a boyfriend or girlfriend. You know you aren’t someone who is going on vacation when you lose your entire paycheck to rent. You know you aren’t someone who is getting into your apartment when you lose your keys on the bus (pls. see previous post). And you know you aren’t someone who is going to fall in love any time soon when you’ve lost your propensity to trust.
So somehow, the more you lose the more you realize the person are not, (and perhaps even the person you once were and no longer are). We lose things like years and chances and people and love (and keys) all the time, and these loses are constantly defining and re-defining our lives. But I wonder (daily, painfully, eagerly...) how much do we really have to end up losing along the way in order to find out who we are?
It’s amazing sometimes to think of the things you can never get back to. You can, at the end of the day, always take the subway home and get back to the place where you can rest your head and let yourself dream - but sometimes it’s those very dreams that you can’t help but lose over time. They too get lost and fade away along with the ideas you had about who you wanted to become.
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