JumpStreet was fun. Jumping a lot was fun.
However, there was a thing about jumping I couldn’t help thinking about.
For one thing, I was really happy to jump along the trampolines. I had fun. Lots of it. I even dived into the foam pit, which was awkward yet strangely satisfying. I only did it once, though, so I can’t say I’ve had better. I felt like a kid again, which is totally great, because I loved being a kid. I love feeling like a kid. I love running around and skipping and jumping and whining and lying around laughing on the floor because I’m out of breath and I just can’t sit up and laugh politely. I love this feeling: happiness. Jumping around is like the simplest form of joy a person can have.
For the other thing, I was not happy about not doing a flip today. I was also not happy making myself play dodge ball. It was alright, I did have fun with it, but there was this lingering thing that I would not enjoy myself. I wasn’t really enjoying myself, I felt inadequate. Lacking something. I felt awkward and out of it. Kids were pros, and there I was, this awkward teenage blob. I’ve never really thought about it, but I have. I think about it a lot.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I have grown, but I feel like I haven’t grown at all. I am a freaking paradox. I’m here, but I’m there. I’m brave, I’m scared. I’m tall, I’m short. (okay not really) I’m moving forward, I’m going backwards.
What am I?
A conundrum. I am yin and yang. I have good and bad. I have light and darkness. I have fear and courage. And I’m just trying to move on just the way I am.
PS. Sorry it’s sort of short. I’m just really tired and I can’t string my thoughts together properly.