Today is one of those days. Maybe because we're so close to the holidays, and the holidays stir up thoughts of family, and happiness, and love. And I wonder how long I will wait for those things. Or if waiting is the wrong attitude to have. I'm sure it is; I've heard we make our own fate. But I can't help but question, what is it that I am supposed to be doing? What have I been forgetting?
Sometimes I just want to scream, I want to shout to the world. What makes me so different than everyone else? What makes life so hard? Rationally, I know I don't have it so bad. I have family, good friends, but is that enough when you know there is more, just beyond your reach. I can't rid the dreadful feeling that this is it. I can't get it out of my head that, as my life goes on, nothing will change. I know my friends would tell me I was wrong, calling the wrong universe. But the longing, the feeling of something missing, my searching for the point to all this mess - will it ever find a resolution? Or will I spend my life wandering about, floundering? It's a very lonely feeling - like sinking, suffocating. It seems everyone around me knows something I don't, they've been privy to a secret and have planned accordingly. So I dare not bring it up, no one can relate. I am sure this is something I have constructed in my warped little mind, just to drive myself more crazy.
It's disconcerting though, you spend your whole life doing what you think you're supposed to, you make responsible decisions, take few risks, and you think you are headed in one direction, and land somewhere else entirely. You realize that you wasted time focusing on the wrong things, that preconceived notions about life, and people, and success have been so far off base that nothing makes sense any more. So,you worry too much, you begin to avoid making decisions that which you cannot predict the outcome, you hide, are maybe just a little bit lazy, and hope for the best. But the best doesn't come. Life remains stagnant, dormant even. Inside you feel it, you feel a churning, an over-whelming pang. And you shove it down, in fear. You think one day you will erupt, then what would people think...
Sure, there are things you could do to change, but every action has an equal and opposite reaction, whether or not our actions will be effective is a gamble. After years of losing bets, you become conditioned to believe that the odds are never in your favor so you keep what little you have left, in your pocket. Deep down in there, in that pocket, there are things I don't want to share. Things I don't want to be told are stupid, things I don't want destroyed. So I keep them to myself - useless and wasted. For what? To protect the nothing I have to lose.
