- Text Size +
Story Notes:

 

This story is the product of a couple of things....

1.  I wanted to play around with the whole first person thing that so many people are doing so well lately.

2.  I'm disappointed that the strike has delayed our look into Jim's growth and how he wrestles with his life...though I totally support what the writers are doing...we'll get back to Jim and Pam and everyone else when they are compensated fairly for the amazing work they do.

3.  Brand new Eagles song "Waiting in the Weeds" is a masterpiece. I have never heard anything like it. While the lyrics are beutiful on their own, it's the way the whole song comes together...that's where the art is. It's breathtaking.  It kind of reminded me of Jim, and once that popped into my head...I couldn't get it back.

I own none of these characters and claim to rights to them. The lyrics in this song were written by Don Henley and Steuart Smith.

 

 

It’s coming on the end of August
Another summer’s promise almost gone
 

 

Some people mark time the traditional way. They count down the minutes of the old year at the end of December, fueled by a rush of champagne, kisses and half-hearted promises to do better in the next twelve months. Some people mark off the passing of another year from behind a cake full of candles and ever higher numbers on the joke cards they receive from friends. People with children mark the passage of time in firsts (first step, first word, first day of school, first date) and lasts (last day of high school, last night spent at home, last time they belong to anyone but you).

Honestly, I’m kind of a combination of all three and it makes sense when I stop and think about how aware I have always been of the passing of time. There have been periods in my life when I wanted each second to stretch out long and slow, like a piece of salt-water taffy on a shore kissed day. There have been other times, though, when I willed the seconds to pass faster, wished for days or years to pass me by in a blink of an eye. Time has been my friend and my enemy. I know it well.

It seems, though, that every autumn I find myself in a reflective mood.  Maybe it’s the way the warm colors fade into frozen hues or the way the days get shorter and night falls in a sudden velvet curtain rather than in the hazy gauze of a summer sunset. It could be because I have an autumn birthday or because during one chapter of my life the cameras returned each fall to begin another season, to collect another set of memories. 

Autumn to me has always meant the beginning of a new period of my life…more so than January and even spring. It’s the time when hopes end and when another chapter of my life begins again. Every year it’s the same thing with me, I get retrospective in the fall.

It usually hits me on one of those days…a day like today…when you can smell people using their fireplaces for the first time. It’s dark before it’s time to go home from work and there’s a chill in air, a promise of frost, and the smell of leaves and smoke. It’s on a day like this that I find myself on the roof of the building where I work, hands shoved in my pockets, staring into the darkness and taking stock of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

That’s why I’m here now…alone, leaning up against the ledge, looking out into the abyss and wondering just what it was that got me here…that made me what I am now. I can compartmentalize every season of my life with a tag phrase...a summary...and while there are days when I take out each of my memories and catalog all that I’ve had and all that I’ve lost, tonight I find myself skimming over the highlights, searching for the answers that this journey will hopefully provide.

 

10 years ago I was stagnant and afraid to move despite the hope that I hung onto.

9 years ago the hope was gone and I longed to forget.

8 years ago I was happy…just happy to be with her.

7 years ago I was restless

6 years ago I had it all, or so I thought

5 years ago I was in a rut

4 years ago I was in a rut

3 years ago I was in a rut

2 years ago I lost her

1 year ago I lost myself

And this year? Well, here I am, on the roof of my office building, staring off into the distance, taking a walk back through all of those years.

I get retrospective in the fall.

 

Chapter End Notes:
This is kind of a departure for me so any feedback is appreciated!


GodInThisChilis is the author of 19 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked Waiting in the Weeds also liked 146 other stories.


You must login (register) to review or leave jellybeans