Wanting more

I wanted more. I still do.

Wanting more was one of my strengths before it became one of my problems. It pushed me toward schools I had not imagined, onto a field with borrowed equipment, and back into college after I had put the opportunity at risk. It also made me impatient. I could see the next level more clearly than the steps underneath it.

Higher sounded like a place. I imagined arriving there and feeling the difference immediately. The right school would make me disciplined. The degree would make me secure. The money would settle the argument. The car would show the movement. Each time I reached something, life became more complicated instead of complete.