Human, maybe?

They say you never truly appreciate what you have until it's gone. Well that royally pissed me off, because I don't want to wait all that time and I'd much rather appreciate that something while I still have it. What a shitty system! Darn you, life/God/whoever!

But then today something sort of cool happened. Well it's not cool in the sense that my dog grew wings, flew up to my window, and spoke words of wisdom to me or anything, but cool = good.

-context yay- So, growing up I've always felt emotionally hollow, like I was consumed in all of my own troubles, never really caring for anything out of my little sphere. I couldn't surely say there was anyone I really "loved," or at least such that I could deduce. I thought it was probable that I love my parents, but how could I really verify that? Doubt filled my mind as I was always forgetting their birthdays and never knowing what to get them and such.

I guessed I probably just didn't care enough. Me me me me.

It was a mystery whether love or empathy would ever be a part of my life, and as I grew older, the doubt and cynicism grew. It started to seem all too clear to me that people were incapable of real "love," that everyone is just delusional and feel the way they do for egotistical reasons.

Why do I love my parents? They constantly care for me and put me first. Evolution says I should treasure any kind of force that keeps me content and well, and same thing will go for my friends, lovers, whatever. That was the cold, robotic reasoning I made for myself.

And so -back to the present- I was sitting here doing some last minute financial aid stuff I had forgotten to do for a school, and the site asks me to type the ages of my parents. I was always forgetting their ages (another thing that made me skeptical), so I had to look at their birthdates and calculate them. They're both around 50. Then I started thinking about my parents becoming old and decrepit, and it dawned on me how soon this is going to happen. I felt depressed thinking of the prospect of losing my parents to age. And I cried.

This from the guy who thought he'd be that awkward son who wouldn't be able to cry at his parents' funeral. I actually started choking up, and (very unfortunate timing, I don't know why) I started to cry my eyes out while I was brushing my teeth.

Maybe I just think way too much. Maybe I do love my parents. I don't think I've ever really cried for anyone else. Or maybe it's the hormones. Either way, tonight, I feel a bit more human than before.