As Good as it Gets?

(In response to a Writer’s Group writing prompt: Write about what you’ve had too much of).

I’ve had too much ordinary and not enough adventure. Too much hum-drum, ho-hum, run of the mill. That may be why I have to wrack my brain trying to come up with moments when I’ve felt truly alive. It makes me sad to realize that those moments are the exception, not the rule. I don’t think that’s what God intended, but that’s what is, at least in my experience thus far.

And yet I’ve been to a lot of places that many people would consider exciting. I’m working in an industry that’s perceived as glamorous and exhilarating. But to me it often feels like the cross I take up daily.

I know, I know. Things could be much worse. Indeed, they have been. At least now I’m employed, financially independent, living in a neighborhood I love. I’m grateful for roommates I get along with, co-workers that are decent people, friends and family that care.

But I can’t deny the nagging question forever lingering -

Is this as good as it gets this side of heaven?

Is this all I can expect to experience in my mortal body?

Because for the longest time I thought there was more. Just up ahead. Just beyond the bend. And it kept me going. It kept me hoping.

But I’m past the bend. And I’m older now. Later has come. Soon is right now. And yes, apparently this is my life.

A fresh monotonous day dawns. I get up. I shower. I dress. I eat. I work. I come home. I eat. I brush my teeth. I try wash that old soul look off my face, but it remains.

I lie in bed and assume the fetal position, my blanket of quiet desperation pulled tightly around me. I find rest in fantasies before drifting off to sleep. Too much fantasy for my own good, I confess. But it is my only defense against the waves of reality threatening to drown me.

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