Light out.

My best friend is flying to New York on Thursday for an interview for a job he was offered yesterday.

I think I've always been comfortable saying I'll stay in Norman because I've had the luxury of getting out so often going on tour every few months for the last couple of years. And in the winter months even knowing that three or four months in the future I’d be leaving for a few weeks, driving to a different place each day, playing a different town each night gave me a sensation of security I didn't know I relied on so heavily. Well now that's over, the band I was touring with has abandoned any sort of national traveling. And now I feel trapped. A rabbit with his foot caught in the steel trap in the middle of a wide-open field. I can see all of the places I'm not going. All of the things I'm not doing. Watching everyone leave. The first thing I thought when Tim told me he might be moving to Long Island within a month was "I want to go with him". I surprised myself. I felt that twinge I get just before flight. Escape. Abandon. At least for a little while. Then I started thinking rationally and felt the twinge I get just before feeling sad. Missing someone. The prospect of missing someone. The back of my throat sending Morse code spasms to the back of my eyeballs. Pulling the muscles tight like reigns, the headache that comes before the cry.

I want Tim to get out of here. He's bigger and better then anything here, nothing in this town has the capacity to hold the weight of his greatness. Nothing here challenges him to the point of pushing out all of his ability. His excellence has yet to fully bloom. So when He comes back a week from Thursday I want him to step out of that airport terminal and tell me he's got the job and he's moving soon.

Lately I don't know what I need or what I want or who I am. I'm 25, that is to be expected. To be perfectly honest I've felt that way as long as I can remember. But up until this point, I think I've always thought there was a light somewhere in some tunnel I'd accidentally amble down and it would lead me to contentment. Or inspiration. Completion. Perhaps the light of that candle is waning, or maybe my faith is slipping, but I don't feel it anymore. And the weight of that realization is crushing out the zeal of the young man I am. Was. And either I want it back or I want to forget it forever.