Sometimes I think that if I can just keep up my pace, everything will turn out awesome. I’ll just keep going and going. Not too fast. But nothing will be able to stop me. I’ll get everything I ever wanted, within reason at least. Not all at once, like some divine outpouring of gifts. But slowly, one by one, when I deserve them. Just like every little boy was taught by his parents. Patience finally paying off for once. But my fortune will not be a reward for temperance, or any measure of my soul alone, but also of my skill for doing what I love.
And I’ll surround myself with family. Not blood family, mind. They’ll still be there making occasional appearances in my life. But I’m talking about the surrogate family comprised of all my closest friends. Because while I’m probably not too likable at first, they’re the ones who for some reason or another stuck around long enough to realize that I’m not THAT much of a loser. Does that sound exactly like the plot of Friends? Yes. And that is not at all a bad thing.
That doesn’t seem like too much to ask, does it? Not happiness or anything. Just contentedness. Like a circle satisfied only going around itself time in, time over. Is it so hard to imagine that I can squeeze at least that much good from this universe? That I’ll get good things by doing good things, like how the universe was always supposed to work? Is it so hard to imagine that I can at least make myself think this with any kind of constancy? No, apparently not.