the beginning

I’ve always been good at melding. At shape shifting. At becoming the shape that fits the hole that I see. Not necessarily the hole that is, but the hole that I see.
I oscillate. I’m constantly becoming different versions of myself. Being reincarnated.
I am always sure that this new version is what I want. I want so much to be petted. To please you. To make you proud. Eventually-
Just as I get really good at being someone I start to shift. I start. I think, “Maybe I’ve been all wrong this whole time.” I think, “What the hell have I been doing?” I think, “God, I’m so stupid.”
Everything I build, I tear it all down. Start over. “A clean slate,” I say, “That’s what I really need.”
I look for new possibilities. I search my inventory. I set a goal and I become someone new.
It helps if you accompany this plan with a really dramatic action, like loading up all your earthly possessions into a Volkswagen and moving across the country. It helps if you don’t know anyone in this new place. Anonymity means you can be anyone. Being a nobody is freedom. No expectations means you are free to be a failure.
But moving is hard. Learning a new culture. Where’s the best pizza place? How do I get a driver’s license? Why isn’t anyone using a turn signal? It’s all bound to wear on a person. To whittle away the extras.
The surly starts as a little pang at first, slowly gathering speed. Rolling down the hill like a Katamari. Headed for destruction. When you start to find yourself scowling at little kids coming out of story time, you know the train has hit the station. It’s time to go.
All this shape shifting gets a person thinking. “Who am I when I’m not being someone else?,” you say. “Where is my default? Who is that person?”
Maybe a somebody needs to stay in one place long enough to find that out.