The addiction to the unknown
There is nothing better than the electrifying excitement of anticipation of the unknown.
It’s a feeling that I started becoming familiar with late in high school - as my mommy-based life was coming to an end and the precipice of college grew ever nearer. The feeling can be mistaken for anxiety, even dread if the change is large enough, but it’s one of the most addiciting feelings I’ve ever experienced. That is second, to loading a heap of wasabi onto a piece of maguro and sucking it down.
It’s felt after meeting a new girl for the first time where there’s palpable chemistry and you have no idea when you’ll see her next, if again.
It’s the feeling you get when you almost got that new job - it’s so close you can taste it, you dream about it, you dream about your life with it.
It’s the feeling you get when you’re listening to your iPod and your favorite song comes on, at the exact moment of recapitulation with your life, you feel like you’re in a movie, wait, no a musical.
It’s the feeling you have when you hold an eye-lock for way past its maturity with a total stranger (for me, one of the opposite sex).
It’s the feeling you get when you’re going up to do that presentation and you know you’re going to kill it. You’re shaking and you can’t feel your tongue, but you know it’s game time.
It’s a tremendous feeling. Anticipation of the unknown is where it’s at. As an addict, perhaps this means I may be destined to a life of 90 degree turns. Perhaps, but then there’s always the moment of resolve. The moment where the anticipation flames out because the unknown sheds its skin and bears its ugly snake head of the Known.
The boring-old known - the same old story, the played out game.
It takes some time to adjust, to recalibrate. But that’s okay, because I smile for there’s another unknown just around the corner - I just don’t quite know exactly when it’s going to happen. And it begins all over again.
