Typicality

“I’ve always believed that you were meant for an atypical life.”

Someone told me the above the other day. I like it. I've never wanted to be typical.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. The typical life is a beautiful thing about who we are as a people. It's foundation and core and society. But maybe it’s not meant for me. I’d love to have kids. I’d love to get married and share my life with someone. But maybe, maybe there’s something else.

Maybe I’ll be atypical. Maybe I’ll spend my days holed up in a little corner of this Starbucks, watching people come and go. Maybe I’ll be one of those people, sipping foamy dark cappuccinos and clacking in heels across the tile floor. Maybe I’ll leave tomorrow and head out on the open road, wind in my hair, stereo blasting some appropriate indie song. Maybe I’ll stay. I’ll fall in love and then fall out of love and cry myself to sleep and then laugh about it all later. Maybe I’ve already met the man of my dreams. Maybe I never will. Maybe I’ll sit and listen to the same song over and over again on repeat, wishing those words had been my own. Maybe I'll spend my entire life waiting. Or moving. Or singing. Or writing about other people. Maybe one day someone will write about me. Or write me a song. Kiss me under the stars. Hold my hand. Introduce me to his parents. Maybe we won't get married. We'll travel and talk and make love and dance and never settle. Maybe I’ll spend an entire day with my toes in the sand, salty sea air curling my hair in waves around my face. Maybe it will all come true. Maybe faith will be rewarded and love will be returned and smiles will be exchanged. Maybe I’ll survive. And laugh through it all. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I will be typical. I’ll get married. Have children. A dog. A cat. A minivan. Maybe I’ll be blissful. Maybe the earth will just continue turning. Maybe none of this matters. Maybe all of it does.

Maybe there are possibilities that can't even be comprehended.

Maybe I just want to fall into this endless pool of maybe, float in lazy circles over the water, languid and relaxed, eyes shaded from the sun. Even just for a little bit...

Maybe.

Current Music: Finish Line by Fanfarlo