To the Unsealed,

Since I was young my family had always moved a lot,
Close or far, just forward, forward, forward,
Always somewhere to go; never somewhere to be,

When I think of childhood, I think of spending summers with friends outside in the grassy fields of Germany,
Exploring cities and admiring buildings older my country, just enjoying the sun for the time it was out,
For the longest time I projected images of the world in my head onto others,
As if I had to force things through the filter of my eyes for them to make sense,
Many experiences brought me into sentience in a way I’ve seen others take for granted,
And I question if I trust myself to say “I know”.

The most recent time my family moved I didn’t follow. For a variety of reasons I decided it was best that I stay, so I planted my feet in Maryland.

As an adult I occasionally reconnect with acquaintances from high school,
I remember listening to their conversations and feeling envious of the way they talk,
The way they are with each other,
All so familiar- to what I had in Germany,

Envy begat curiosity, so I asked how their friendships started. They replied almost confused that I’d even ask that, stating that they’ve “always known each other.” Their parents are friends.
Their home is a family home.

My amorphous feelings took shape in the articulation of my thoughts,
I was able to connect and recognize how little i knew about my own experiences.
I wish I had lifelong friends,
I wish I had a family house,
I wish I had generations of collective experience to fill the spiritual void in my being,
I wish I could’ve known someone my whole life.

I saw it. I understood it. I couldn’t empathize,
All I could do was laugh at the dramatic irony, the things people will take away from life when they don’t share their thoughts with others.

They thought the most interesting about me was that I’ve not spent my life in one place. They expressed their anxieties about living up to their family’s expectations, and being responsible for maintaining the family house well enough to pass it on. They felt suffocated by the looming presence of their families, always fearing that they would “become” their parents.

What I found funny was being told that they kept inviting me to hangout with them because they enjoy the process of getting to know people, and think it’s sometimes more fun than just speaking to someone you already know.

Moving to where I currently am has made my life better because it’s made me more me. Another chapter in the book of my life. I can’t always empathize with other people’s experiences, nor can they with mine, but the ability to share our differing experiences makes you grateful for everything word in your story. Connecting with other people makes life better. Bittersweet and honest.