When Will We Be Invisible?

I was riding my motorcycle tonight, and I found myself staring at the fast-moving pavement flying by underneath me. It's the closest thing to flying without going to the fucking airport. I love it. In the next few days, I'm going to plan out a ride down the coast. I'm tentatively going to dedicate three, maybe four, days to the cause. The plan is to go by myself far from home with nobody there to tell me where to go or what to do. It's funny, because I'm twenty-five years old, and for some reason, I've not done a whole lot of things myself.

Yes, I've been pretty independent. But I've always had some hand on my shoulder guiding me or bossing me around. It's made me view myself as though I'm still some stupid kid who doesn't know shit about life, even though I've done and seen enough to last me a while. Paying bills, for instance. Lizzy always did that. I'd help, but it was all her... taking care of the paper work, mailing things out. She never trusted that I could do it, because, "You're just lousy at administrative things." And fine, I stepped back.

Traveling is another thing. France was supposed to be just me, and while I'm not disappointed in the slightest about the company I kept during those eight days, it was supposed to be a Dustin endeavor which wound up being diluted somehow. Madeline helped me do things, and for that, I'm grateful. I would have gotten it done, but the help was wonderful. I just wish I'd had things totally prepared for Madeline. Lizzy planned everything. She told me how things would be, and she was efficient. I actually really admired that in her, because she was so lazy about everything else. My role in vacations, though, was just providing the funds. Trips to California, Leavenworth, Oregon, Seattle, and the other places we went were all driven by her. The ride will be different. Not as epic, mind you, but mine. Alone.

I've been thinking a lot about how strangely alone I feel. It's weird. I used to have this sense of not-aloneness when I was a family man. But I was miserable, at least for the last couple years of that particular life. But even when I was miserable, I felt connected to something bigger than myself. Something that promised companionship and solidarity. Now, I'm happier than I've been in years, but the trade-off was I now feel by myself. I think this mostly applies to my role as a father. As a lover, I feel pretty good. Not alone. Not anymore. Madeline is amazing. But as a parent, I feel kind of inadequate.

Sometimes, I feel efficient. On top of shit. Other times, I wonder why Skylarr should even listen to me.

I like to make him "pretty dishes". That's what he calls them. I neatly arrange his food on his plate for him. Slice things up semi-fancily. Line things up. Make faces with fruit. Colors. Variety. He loves it. I think he'll remember that.

I've got to move. I absolutely can't right now, given my financial distress, but soon. I need to be the king of a castle again. It's hard going from that to where I am now. I'm just another kid. At least, that's how I feel. I guess, to be more accurate, I'm like an independent contractor. I don't know. I'm not even sure what I mean by that.

I need to sleep, but I should say that today has been a great day. I love spending time with Skylarr so much. We played catch with a baseball for the first time today. I made him a "pretty dish" with a sliced up peanut butter and jelly sandwich with strawberries and whipped cream throughout. He loved it.

Well, off to bed. Here's to a wonderful tomorrow.