Years – Mike Ruekberg

You don’t get those years back
The time you wasted sleeping late
It wasn’t wise to throw out your directions
Before you knew your way

You don’t get your seat back
You got up and lost your place
You should learn about leaving in the middle
Now you’re lost in space

You don’t get your dreams back
Once you let them get away
Late-night plans are always disappearing
In the light of day

You don’t get those years back
You don’t get those years back


Sometimes I think that the longer I stay alone (not only single but also mostly friendless) the more self-absorbed I’ll become. More and more I’ll forget how to be instinctive about caring for others – not from the high perch of charity but up close face to face with all the potential that closeness brings for hurt and misunderstandings.

(Closeness = need, vulnerability, reliance, mine and theirs)

I feel so absolutely clueless about the way the world is set up and how life works; how to act fairly and still be happy; I think society is sick,  but what is the alternative? I know people who tried to game the system via running off with their partners (certainly a much rosier option than a life of crime) but give them several months, a year or so, and they come crawling back home. Every single one of them did, even the toughest, even the most obstinately romantic. We could speculate about “why” all day, but how much does it matter when it happens anyway? My most bitter realization for this year is that insight, however painfully won, doesn’t really count for anything in the end.. because I still have the same needs, even if I know I’m not supposed to have them. Even though I tried to change.

(Is it really so crazy to keep wondering if there is someone who wants the same things? Someone who still subscribes to Plato’s silly myth, someone whose idea of happiness and fulfillment does not involve bright lights and stages at all, someone who likes quiet evenings in, someone who would patiently wait for my cooking and / or fashion skills to improve, someone who understands when I watch Orange Is the New Black and wake up with nightmares and cry on the phone, someone who wants to save the world with me at her side, someone who likes to be checked up on, someone who would allow me to make her my everything, with all the great and terrible connotations of that – ?)


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