I spent a little while at the Lake Jackson Sea Center this morning.
It’s tiny. It used to feel huge to me, when Daddy would take me, but now it’s smaller. Or maybe I’m just bigger.
There was a tour right in front of me, so I listened in on them for a little bit before digging my earbuds out of my purse and playing Take Care, Take Care, Take Care (an Explosions in the Sky album) while I sat back on a bench and watched the fish swim around for a little while.
There was this one fish that had a beard and a very “done with life” look in his eyes. I’m naming him Frederick. It feels like it fits him.
I had an errand to run that took me back by the college when I left the Sea Center, and I
decided to stop by the Center for Arts and Sciences Museum while I was there.
I hadn’t been there since I was little, either.
The butterfly exhibit had always been one of my favorites, although I wouldn’t have ever admitted it. I more openly admitted to loving the dinosaur fossils when I was younger. I think I wanted to be a tomboy, and that’s why I never really was one. Kind of like I currently want to be a hipster, and that’s the very reason I can’t be.
Popped in at Brew N’ Bake . . . to study and to be spammed with photos by one of my best friends –
So I went to Brazoria.
It was like a magnet, really. I don’t know how to explain, but there was this little magnet tugging me towards what used to be my favorite place in the entire world.
It was strange. I went to a few of the places I used to hang out, and it was the first time I’d been any of those places alone. Ever. I’d always been with my family or with my friends, the people who’d practically lived at this place with me.
I love that some people just don’t forget.
It was weird, though. Really weird being there alone, but not entirely alone because I could hear a group of people in the Green Room, talking and laughing. There were a few women in the office, poring over paperwork. One lady walked by me in the auditorium, asking how I was doing today.
I think the weirdest part is that I didn’t recognize anyone. I used to walk in and know every single person, and now they’re all strangers.
What’s really weird is that it didn’t bother me. Things are changing, and I’m finally learning to let go and let them.
What you have now might be good, but whatever comes next, whatever is right around the corner, could be just as good or better.