Playing House

I was glancing through photos on my friends profiles. What I saw were 20 somethings standing around applying pinchy things, playing with ropes and using hitty items on each other.

Most were smiling with slight dazed expressions. Like little Janie holding her mothers giant cooking ladle, or Tommy holding his daddies' grown up hammer they all seemed adolescent.

Sometimes, and I'm sure this is why I don't hang out at "the apartment" much any more, it feels like we're playing house. As if in our childlike basic understanding we are acting out what we see without fully comprehending the depths of the situations we are creating. In many ways this is healthy and normal because everyone there is on the same level.

For me however, it strikes a hallow cord. Not to say I'm more advanced or I find no purpose in their play. It definitely helped me learn some things about myself, the safety of equals. However, the lack of realness seems to cheapen the experience. I'm left wanting more and I know it cannot be offered there.

I find myself responding to it like I do video games. Becoming bored and attempting to find the most creative ways to die. I get bored, I say 'no' because I know they won't make me. Honestly I become a brat. How can that be a good thing?

So, for now I make friends, chat and wait. I've been doing it for a while and will continue for the time being. I can find happiness in that. After all I will one day miss this.