This Is For Me And I Know Everyone Knows

This is on a side of me, and all this I know to be true: I have a job that allows me to live about as reasonably as possible. Coworkers I get along with, some better than others. The class I pay for and am learning a foreign language in is going beyond all expectations, so much so that I'm in the uppermost echelon of the class. I have great friends, however scattered and scatterbrained, that've hung with me through the valleys and are helping me hoist the flags at the peaks.

And I have the first girlfriend of my life, which is everything I ever wanted or dreamed, physically and mentally. Through sheer force of will she's made me a better person, got through all the millions of walls I'd put up and gotten into my heart. She has me in a sea of cliches but when I see her smile and I make her laugh I know people have more than I do but none of them anywhere is living better than I am at that time.

And yet.

This is on the other side of me, and all this I know to be true: we're going to have to move before the summer because the rent's going up and we have no idea where to move to. They're closing my dad's work and it is not a sure thing that he'll be able to get a job with the Center. My mom's fighting off diabetes, a shoulder that is periously close to being a glorified change purse, and who knows what else. My grandmother's hitting the end of the road, if no one else will say it, and is getting increasingly blind and dependent by the day. My aunt's arthritis is beginning to come in on her too.

So what do you do? You live in joy forever and the first shot of darkness is perennial eclipse. You worry and you fret and at the end of the metaphorical day you're dead anyways and what few moments of joy you could've had went by in sneezes.

What do you do?

Swim.

Learn to swim.

Learn to swim.

Learn to swim.

Currently playing: Ben Folds Five's "Don't Change Your Plans"