I gripped the football, cocked it back, and flung it with an uneasiness towards Eric. The football spun out in a sideways spiral, but arrived at his hands, nonetheless. It’s been a while since I tossed the pigskin, but after a few exchanges the muscle memory kicked back in. Eric and I were tossing the football as well as chatter back and forth on his sprinkled leaf front yard. Nostalgia of our senior football season crept back into the conversation. It’s been six years away from the game.
Yesterday was Eric’s birthday (24) and he’s in a similar situation as I am, unemployed and residing at home–his last birthday at home was junior year in high school. We’re still here, back in our hometowns–I never really left. There was talk of people from our class who were leading happy lives infused with success, marriage, and overall good fortune. This talk casted a somber outlook on our current positions, but I guess we’re just late bloomers.
At this point, I can’t really say either of us were euphoric about life. We went on a hike earlier that day and on the way home ate Thai food in a shopping market we use to study at (Starbucks). Last year, around this time, neither of us we’re in great positions–we’re doing better now, though. For some reason, however, fall seems to drift a looming cloud of depression over me. It’s more subtle this year, but I can’t say I’m not aware of it.
We dropped the football and lounged on the grass before dinner and cake would be served. A few yellow and brown crinkled leaves floated down towards us. Soon enough, that entire lawn will be flooded with leaves. The seasons are changing and although our lives seem to be at a halt, life continues steadily. I then slipped my fingers between the black laces of the football and threw it back one more time.