The Price of Victory

Insomnia's a bitch. I seem to suffer from it with frightening frequency these days. It's probably a combination of accumulated stress, age, and eating stupid things before I sleep. In any case, whenever I can't sleep I find myself staring out of my window; the same window I've been staring out of for the past 20 years. I see the same tree, although it's gotten a little larger, and I also see the same street light, even though the city moved it to the right a few feet (my tax dollars at work no doubt). I also see the moon sometimes during the summer, as it floats through the sky between the tree and the street light. I've seen that damned moon float by that goddamn window for most of my life, and I can't help but be reminded of what I used to think about while staring out through that window.

Annoyingly enough this just further exacerbates my insomnia, as I begin a depressing journey back through time. Those past summers where I lay in bed, staring out that window, wondering what school was going to be like in September. Or day dreaming about my superhero-like antics while saving the Universe, and consequently, all life on Earth. Or even of all of the wonderful adventures I would one day have on a beautiful tropical island somewhere.

Before I got my first car, I used to day dream about the monster project car that I would one day build. I used to think up fancy martial arts moves and combos to try out on the mat the next day. I used to play out scenarios in my head about what I wanted to accomplish, and when I'd have it accomplished by. I've lost count of how many past crushes and old flames I used to think about while I peered out of that window. Hell, I even remember some of my sleepless nights during University, where I looked out through that window wondering about my future. Would I ever find a job? Can I hang in long enough to graduate? I distinctly remember the amount of pressure I felt at those times, and how it felt to have the fear run through my veins. I couldn't imagine myself ever getting through it, but I still looked out that window imagining better times when those feelings would be nothing more than a thing of the past.

That window had always been like a portal to the future for me. If there was ever something for me to worry or wonder about, I'd stare out through that window and peer into the endless night sky. I'd keep doing that until the moon went from one end of the window to the other, and, on occassion, I'd even witness it disappear as the sun rose out of the ground to replace it in the sky.

I came to a sad realization recently. As I lay there, struggling to sleep, staring out of that same dirty ass window, at the same but older moon, I couldn't help but notice how different it felt. All I seemed to think about was the past, and the only thing I felt was remorse.

Looking back, it would seem that I have managed to fulfill most of my desires. The things I used to day dream about while sitting in that bed have been carried out. Project car? Built and passed down. University? I somehow graduated and found a job. I'm cheating death on a daily basis on my motorcycle, living a life that should be somewhat fulfilling, and am as close as anyone can possibly be to being a superhero. So what's the problem, you ask? Well, the problem seems to be that somewhere between the daydream and the reality, I lost the piece of myself that thought up that dream in the first place. Like an unfunny, cosmic joke, it seems that the child that desired to be the man I am today, grew up and decided to be something else.

Suddenly, I find myself lying in that same bed, looking out through that same window, longing for the past. Not because I miss being young, or miss the care-free nature of school. No, I miss having hope. I miss that euphoric feeling I used to have while thinking about my wonderful future, and the comfort and happiness I used to get out of daydreaming about the possibilities. The only thing I see when I look out that window is what I used to be, and how I used to feel about life. I don't see the future anymore, because I know there isn't a future worth looking out to.

Is this the price that I had to pay for my success; for my victory? While fighting this war we call life, it seems that I made too many compromises, and lost too much of myself on the battlefield. I am everything I have ever wanted to be, doing everything I have ever wanted to do, but I still feel like I lost. Somewhere in the whirlwind I let go of the very thing I was fighting for, and now all I see when I look out of that window is regret.

-Jack the Stripper