Thoughts at the lake, 2/11

Here I sit at Mueller Lake park, right on the faded red steps by the lake. The sky is blue, the weather’s a bit crisp. I hold a cup of warmth in my hands whenever it’s too chilly, to hold, to sip, and then to set by my side. I’ve spent the day in my own thoughts, and it is typical to be so big that it overwhelms. My latest obsessions have been about the life threatening, the existential, and about love.

I’ve wondered about love. Sometimes I think I feel love, but I wonder if it’s just a hope that a gap might be filled in my heart or my head — attention? Comfort? Presence?

I sit near the lake, and I look out at the distance and I see all these folks. I see someone’s birthday photoshoot — I think I see birthday balloons and matching clothes.

I see a mother and her toddler — the kid’s sitting on her lap, and playing with one of their multicolor toys. She looks off at the lake. She points to the ducks.

I see a couple on a picnic blanket, one asleep under a blue blanket, the other half reading.

I hear the passerbys. I feel comforted hearing the passing gossip and the normal stuff, so comforted of a time that feels familiar. I’ll hear the pit-pattering and the collar jingles of dogs walking. Some runners, one skateboarder.

I hear a group of friends nearby talking about their Friday nights and their dinner plans, their weekend plans. Some other group is reminiscing about Saturday morning toons, like Rugrats and Batman and SpongeBob.

I see ducks, I think, and a father and child kneeling by the lake, feeding breadcrumbs to the group. Seeing people feed ducks isn’t an uncommon sight, but this makes my eyes well up.

So many folks, so many gaits and voices.

I’m an introvert, but I love people watching and hearing. I’m anonymous, I’m silent, I’m unnoticeable, save for a few folks I smile at, almost cautiously. And that’s how I want to remain here.

I feel so comforted knowing these aren’t NPCs, these aren’t internet strangers. These people are real, and they’ve all had entire lives and pain and happiness that have led them to the same park that I’m at. It feels lovely.