kick my own ass

It's three o'clock in the morning and I'm scared. It's crazy, because it's this fear, this thick-throated, heat swell inside of me that I've been chasing down all week. I have tried chocolate and salt and shopping to repress it and yet it rises.

The source of this fear surprised me, because it represents a hurdle surfacing from my past. A past I have vowed to overcome. I am scared of myself. I am scared of my potential, my thirst for an off-the-charts life. I am scared that hope will only produce bitter disappointment. I am scared that I won't be strong enough to believe in myself, in my own aspirations. I fear a life empty of satisfaction, wonder, imagination. I am afraid I have grown up.

You see, when I was a kid I never had the ill impression that being an adult was awesome in anyway. I understood early on that adult's lives were not to be envied. They were the one's who had to work, pay the bills, watch after kids. They didn't even get summers off. And as I grew older, a bit more world savvy, I realized it wasn't adulthood which had to be feared, but the mind set of many adults. I noticed that very few adults were happy. I noticed that they no longer dreamed, took risks, or played in life. They simply staked their flag and settled. And what's worse, they knew it.

So, here I am. I am in Barcelona, newly married, a closet full of clothes, a week full of time. And ashamed to admit to the adult-mindset I have let take over me. It's true. I have not done any of the things I'd planned to do. Like, write every free hour of my day, read books by all the authors I find inspiring. Like, take walks where I've never been, to take pictures of places I'll never forget. The most shameful part, is that I have borrowed any reason and wielded every excuse I know. I have lied to myself on the journey. I have staked my own damn flag. 

I hope this is the closest I will come to "growing up." I hope the remnants of my shame linger into the morning of everyday of the rest of my life. I hope tomorrow, the conviction of my inner-childhood voice presses on and inspires me to live the life I dreamed of as a child. As a child can only dream.

(And if not, I can always kick my own ass.)