The Other Side of Now

by Paige Harbison

I feel like my life is an illusion and even I can’t see quite through it.

An Angelino without a therapist is like a Taylor Swift song without a story. It simply does not exist.

When in fact, I’m actually afraid of being safe one second and in irreversible crisis the next.

And honestly, even if I’m losing my mind, at least there’s a dog here.

When you’re “perfect,” you never truly are. You don’t cross a finish line of hotness. It’s a constant battle of maintenance that involves constant failure, and the goalposts are perpetually moving.

The answer to how is unsatisfying. The truth is … we live. We can’t spend every moment treasuring the things we love. We still get mad at the dog for tracking mud through the house even though one day, we would give anything to have her muddy paws back on our white carpet. We still roll our eyes at our parents’ needy voicemails even though one day, those recorded moments will be all we have left.

“It makes me feel like my soul is destined to stay on an endless, ridiculous cycle of thinking the grass is always greener.”

I look at him. I’m not sure what to say, but I’m touched that he’s identified a problem in his own behavior. Guys so often don’t. People so often don’t.

But that’s what grief is, isn’t it? Expectation and resolution slashed, leaving unfinished conversations behind.

My mom says, “It’s a big, unknowable universe, isn’t it?”

Out of all the lives I might have, I believe I can make this the one that feels right. I simply have to build it.

What I need is to be around people I care about. To let people love me. To have small moments, knowing that they’re the biggest ones, and not ignore them because I’m too busy looking way off in the distance, either future or past, for some imagined thing. I’m not here waiting for life. I’m in it. It’s happening now! Look out!