Sometimes I get sad at night thinking about how, unlike in middle or high school, there will never be another period in my life where all the people I want to be with are in one place. I'm old enough where all the things I love are scattered across the country, and that's difficult to reckon with knowing there was a time so recently where the world's footprint was no bigger than the four corners of my town.
It's depressing until I think about how lucky I am to live a life so full of people I want to be with and things I want to do and places I want to see. Not everyone gets to live a life of things worth missing. This sadness is not a function of having too little to love in my life but having too many things to love. And once I put it that way, I feel much better.
I'm happy I live a life of things worth missing.
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