Groundhog Day

We sit.

We walk when we want. We look at those around, perhaps also walking. We share glances but don't talk. Our expressions say, 'hello,' and, 'nice to meet you.' The rest we must make up and do so in our heads. We find out about them, but we find out more about ourselves. They bring out good in us and we smile without being funny.

We wonder.

Our imagination puts us in different lives. And in different places to live. With different people, not yet met or that we'll never meet. We'll be someone else for a sec, but then we'll be us again. The warmth of our new, make-believe houses, new lives chills and we're outside again. Wind makes our vision tear to blur.

We blink.

We search and make eye contact with another. We'll do it all over, and then we'll come back and sit. Our hearts tell us to be with someone, anyone. And we try. We fail at that because they're not right. We hurt for ourselves and for them. We don't want to be alone but we can't be with anyone. We try again. We fail. So we stay alone for a while.

We sleep.

We awake to a new day. We do the same thing. We live Groundhog Day. We don't want to, but we do. We try not to but can't help it. We cry for change, hurt for a new life. We work at it like a third job. We become obsessed with not being us, with being someone better. We know what's wrong, know what's better. So we try that.

It works.

Oh, how it works. We change for the better and feel better. We make amends with our old selves and don't live in regret. We look forward to new, knowing what we've learned. We sit, then stand. We walk, then talk to someone, anyone. We walk a different way, then meet someone different. This is what we do. And we are who.