At 41, I miss...

Alone with my thoughts - Tarek Joseph Chemaly

At 41, I miss not acting my age and people playing along because I do not look my age,
I miss not dressing my age, and wearing the clownish outfits with panache not even aware of their effect,
I miss believing - in everything really, as it feels very awkward to just drift in a world where everything is relative,
I miss knowing - or convincing myself - that it pays to be good, that people reimburse money lent, that friends would be there for you, that friends are not needed but still would be there for you anyhow, that there is goodness in people,
I miss interpreting children's ingratitude as just a passing phase, cute in its own right,
At 41 I miss being in love, in love with love, with the idea of a person, with a person that might be,
I miss being curious about people, enthralled by their stories to the point of silliness,
I miss meeting intelligent people and discussing smart ideas as if they matter on the ground,
I miss storming out of offices and slamming doors in the face of superiors,
I miss understanding rebellion and living it all while taking responsibilities,
I miss early morning flights and bad exchanges in Frankfurt and the bloody Mary I had on the SAS plane,
I miss wanting something viscerally,
I miss missing someone viscerally,
At 41, I miss.