Let's just call me Sentimental Sam. The person that remembers the song theme for the senior year prom. I wanted this to be the epic night, only to succumb to the bitter disappointment when I cannot persuade the situational course of the night. Every night. I am quick to blame myself but competent to understand after the fact. What triggers my conscious mind to recall these moments so vividly. I strive to experience them again with frequency. Not in a live in the past kind of way. I know the moments the have made me the happiest. I feel they are once again obtainable. Unfortunately this cannot be planned or forced. A generation breed for instant gratification. Patience is a virtue.
Coming back from France and reality send me into a tailspin that literally took me two full months to recover from and overcome. The chateaus, boulangeries and vineyards may have created a false since of reality but the bonds I formed on the trip were something that were obtainable anywhere in the world. After we explored the country side, drank wine and spoke pigeon French, we all returned home for dinner. I spent an inordinate about of time making a fire while the girls made amazing dinners. I felt inept at times but felt strangely in place. It wasn't the wine the made me feel comfortably numb. It was almost like I was meant to be at that place during that time. Sentimental Sam? Malbec Mike? Coretez? Call me what you want.
I told the new friend I met on the trip before leaving that I strive for the moments I experienced on the trip. It must have came across painfully wrong. I wanted to experience the same highs this trip provided. Experience life not only though my eyes, but others as well. I envied the love my friends portrayed but not in a jealous way. I desire to feel loved amongst friends. A puzzle piece. Essential. I was ready to set aside the sophomoric 30 year old life style I developed prior to leaving and transcend into he best years of my life. My 30s. I knew change was imminent but unfortunately not immediate. As I know reflect the last two months, I feel shameful. The embarrassment I felt was created merely by my own frustration. Fight or flight? First to Fight.
