Tonight, I was watching Parenthood. This week's episode got to me more than the rest (and they all get to me one way or the other). Near the end, a mom was gushing over her daughter, a high school senior, saying that she was already missing her before she left to go to college. They were so sweet with each other. Crying together. Leaning in, holding hands naturally. Each was dear to the other. That was obvious.
I had a flash. A question zoomed through my head: How would my life had been different if I had been loved like that?
Not in a mean I-need-to-go-to-therapy way. Just curious. Who would I be this very day?
Would I have a spouse? Kids? Would I be less nervous around people? Would I have taken a riskier career path? Would I weigh less? Would I go out more? Would I mingle with more people, openly? Would I be closer to my cousins? Would I be a writer? Would I have to find these ways to express myself? Would I take better care of my body? Would I floss? Buy more vegetables? Have different printing? Loopier? Have long-term lifelong friends? Know the people I went to high school with? Would I be wearing this eggplant shirt with these brown pants?
I do not ask that question with regret; I have no intention of going backwards. But I was wildly curious, thinking that the purest part of me would be more obvious. My life would have more sky blue. I would shine redder than I do now. I think that is true. I just do.
I can't do much about it now, but I want to keep that question present somehow in my mind. How would life had been different if we are loved like that? All of us, ever single one? Who can I love like that, now that I know how much it is needing to be done?
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