It's interesting how the most random things jump out to you and carry a long forgotten significance with it. For me, it was the sudden flood of memories of being a kid, going to the mall (Southglenn, RIP) on Saturdays with my Mom and brother, eating in the small Taco Bell in the back corner near the JC Penny's in the middle of our weekend routine. I just finished up my last paper for the semester and needed to go out and grab some quick food since I felt in no mood to cook and decided to wing it on selection. Somehow, driving down Figueroa Taco Bell called to me and I stopped in. While I wasn't thinking it at the time, perhaps some part of me was craving that sense of safety and comfort in this still-foreign city, where I forge an isolated path towards my future, my career...my destiny? As I continue feasting away on simple tacos and chicken soft tacos, the all-too-familiar odor and aroma of Taco Bell still carry images of family and feelings of content and provides a very welcome warmth and happiness at this (relatively) early hour of the night.
The hardest part of growing up is watching the ones you love grow old around you. The simple days of youth have been replaced by the sensation of a single-minded, relentless march of time towards the end of our own existence as we hurriedly try to fit in every little dream we can.