Yesterday I brought you to a familiar place.
I put you in a bear onsie because it was cold outside and I liked the idea of a tiny human masquerading as a fierce beast. You crawled all over; boy of the great outdoors you've always been. Ready to spring forth and sharpen your claws on the world. Endlessly fascinated with everything around you. You are an explorer.
It gets harder for me to look back these days. To try and focus in on moments gone, memories that seem like houses in a dream that I just can't let myself back into, too afraid of what I'll find if I unlock the door.
We played in the leaves like we did before, you laughed like you did before. And, oddly enough, I didn't feel that usual ache of nostalgia. I think I've finally let go of it all, realized that it's better here, now. Living in the moment instead of trying to sneak peeks back into windows with the curtains drawn. It is easier to live this way, to seek out new adventures and make new memories. To be explorers.
We are beasts masquerading as tiny humans.