A little more than real: Paper Towns

Maybe it all means something, maybe it doesn’t, who the hell really knows anyway?

If being human means doing less than perfect things, well, I am the queen of you humans. I am less than perfect, and I do live in my own bubble, don’t we all?

I do think of travelling to far off lands and finding my purpose, I do think of making it to the top of the New York best seller list, I do think that someday I will pay off all the dues I grew up creating, I do think that maybe someday kindness will take over the world, I do think of leaving behind life as I know it and walking away, but my biggest folly is that I think that it will matter.

On yet another one of my most ground breaking flights a couple weeks back, I watched a movie because sometimes on flights people watch movies, yeah, I don’t know why.

I watched Paper Towns. *Spoiler alert.

I didn’t know what was really going on through the first half of the movie, but I kept watching anyway and am I ever glad I did.

The movie got me to realizing that not all the things that sound crazy in our heads are as crazy. Maybe when someone hurts you, you want to take away. Maybe sometimes people take away and can never return to the same life again.

Most of all though it really got me to thinking about the things we chase after.

“What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.”


Don’t we all have that person, who always seemed a little more than a person? That person who we could swear was woven together with little threads of magic? That person who is not just a memory, but something that defines nostalgia is our own little mind dictionary? That person who we can see the ugly in and the truth in, but it will all only fade away into pockets of real, imperfect beauty? That person who could tear us down, a million times, and yet be the only one who could ever take us to that one spot on cloud nine that nobody else seems to know how to get to? That person who can walk away and never look back, and someone we will keep glancing at for the rest of our lives just because they are a little more than a person to us and always will be?

It got me to thinking, maybe we will spend the rest of our lives pining. For whatever. For that girl who we never could date, that guy who broke our heart, that college we never could attend, that light blue floor length skirt we wanted as a nine-year-old but never did buy, I don’t know. Maybe we will always pine for it.

The thing is, we aren’t pining for it as it is now, or as we are now, but just as it was then, perfect, magical, even for just a fleeting blink on the seemingly endless journey of our lifetime, more than real.

Maybe it was the lilt of his words, maybe it was the way the sun caught the shades of brown in her hair that no one believed wasn’t out of a bottle, maybe it was how it made your heart race, thinking that that life you dreamt of was just within an arm’s reach, who knows, it wasn’t real, it was your perception, it wasn’t less than real, it existed, what it was, is and always will be is more than real.

Cause somethings in this life will always be more than real.

 “I leave, and the leaving is so exhilarating I know I can never go back. But then what? Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?” download.jpg

So maybe that’s my thing. I am the girl who leaves. It used to be relations, and then it became places, maybe some of us just keep leaving and leaving and leaving, and maybe someday, we will stop, or maybe we never will.

You think that it would matter, that you will leave and it will matter, but it won’t. When you leave people think you are leaving them, but the truth is anyone who leaves carries with them a million places, faces and memories in their knapsack, and it is only the ones who stay behind who forget.

So maybe, I realized, we will always pine, for leaving, for staying, for people, for places, for feelings, for numbness, maybe we will pine and maybe in those moments, those days, those phases, life will be a little more than real.


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