Growling through your teeth at the talented young actor across the table with the glass of red wine and killer sunglasses

I make ridiculous comedies and 70's cop show spoofs in my spare time.

Man oh man I wanted to be a filmmaker.
Holy hot shit I wanted to be a musician.
Aw man I couldn't take my eyes off of being a passionate man.
A life in a big city where artistic types could swoon over each other; and make it.
Wished for a puppy.
Wished for a camera.
Wished for sexual exploration.
Passionate love.
Pop music.
Leggy brunettes in flowery dresses with smarts that could kill.
Fancy restaurants.
Dive bars and corner diners.
Just to watch you walk.
The way you held my hand at the theater, in the dark, in love.
Oh God, I needed it.

When I was a younger man this seemed so far away and ultimately impossible- these thoughts unbearable. Heartbreaking. Defeating.

I read a passage in a book called 'House of Leaves'. It was about two men. One was content, the other was restless. The contented man enjoyed sitting on the porch smoking reefer and petting his dog; and would be happy doing only this for the rest of his life. In his younger years, the restless man could not figure out why he was never happy. He thought happiness was a goal. To combat his idle hands he took up photography, carpentry, and writing. He filled his life with activities that suited his creative nature. Then he realized he is not living to reach a goal. He is living for the process!

The contented man lives to be. The restless man lives to become.

When the heart has broken, it will heal.