Trying to find center

With the wife and kid gone to Ocean Shores, I was free from parental duties last night. I certainly didn't want to stay home, either. I endeavoured to visit from friends, but most were working, not feeling well, unreachable, or busy. So I was at loose ends and had to figure out how to spend my evening without getting bummed out.

Inspired by a thread recently started on the Brass Goggles Steampunk Forum, I decided to head toward Seattle and go to Gasworks Park, one of my favorite places in the city. I stopped at Dick's and got a burger and shake on the way, naturally (one of the many things I love about Seattle: you can say, "I'm craving some Dick's" and still be secure in your heterosexuality). I have been feeling uncentered lately, not myself. Gasworks always reminds me of good times and a younger, crazier me. I figured it was just the thing I needed.

When I reached Gasworks, it was pretty much dark already. I started to park on the uphill side street we used to always park on, but there was a good deal of glass from broken windows that spoke of recent car break-ins. I decided to park on the main street in a well-lit area instead. The park was still open, so I could have parked in the actual lot, but I am conditioned never to do that due to the many late-night visits of the "old days" when I would have gotten a ticket for parking there after the park was closed.

As I strolled into the park, a flood of memories washed over me. It had been awhile since I had been to Gasworks. I love it there. So many good times, so many memories of lazy nights and sunrises. There were a ton of people at the park, mostly teenagers enjoying the last gasp of summer. For awhile, I feared I was the oldest in the park, until I ran across some other adults. It made me feel old anyway.

I walked past the gasworks, admiring their heavy industrial beauty, and climbed up Sundial Hill as I always have. I walked past young couples lieing in the grass making out - each time I would look away out of respect, even though I remember not caring who might see when I did that myself. One of the wonderful things about love is sometimes you can shut out the rest of the world when you're together.

Reaching the top of the hill, I strolled to the back side of it and looked down, seeing in my head the images of myself and my friends rolling down it like a bunch of little kids. People often thought we were high or something, but we were just having fun. After standing there a couple of minutes, I walked across the sundial and sat down to just stare at the city lights for awhile. I still contend it is the best possible view of the city at night.

And I was right...sitting there, I found myself moving just a bit more toward center. Things felt a little more right. I felt at peace while I was there.

Eventually, I decided it was late enough that I ought to get home. I started to walk back to my car. In front of the covered climbing toys sat a group of teenage girls. "Hey! How are you doing?" one asked as I passed.

"Good," I said. "You girls having fun tonight?"

"Yeah!" one said. "Except that these heels are killing me!" She was sitting barefoot next to a pair of red four-inch heels and wearing a short skirt. This made me feel even older.

"They'll do that to ya," I said. "Every day, I'm thankful I'm a guy. Sorry." I shrugged, they laughed. "Have a good night!" I said as I walked away.

"You too!" came the reply, with more giggling, until some other old guy walked past them - "Hey! How are you doing?" they said to him. I just smiled to myself.

Out on the street, as I walked to my truck, a Mini Cooper passed me by, reminding me that my wife was gone and I'd be sleeping alone. I don't do that well. I turn into a whiny wuss when I have to sleep alone. Oh well, I figured it was late and I'd be tired enough to sleep by the time I got home. I was right again...I conked out as soon as I laid down.

Still sucked though. I'm impatient for Friday when I get to see her.