Maybe it has taken me so long, taking my own sweet time and circling around the same, single issue because it isn’t easy to admit the truth:
I think I am… looking for happiness.
I said that I can’t point a finger to it, what more attempt to give it a name. Do I really? I think I am sad. Removed from its accessories in the form of adjectives and long-winded explanations, that five-word sentence is so damn hard to admit aloud. Is it really sadness? Or am I simply awash with melancholy and grief for a time long gone, an identity no longer present and an innocence that’s now marred?
Maybe this isn’t sadness; maybe this is simply the many pursuits of happiness.
Is it change that my heart and mind is waging a war against? Is it really a culprit, or am I the real perpetrator? Am I not holding myself too tightly, resisting with all my might and believing this fortress of self I’m guarding is the best that I am when in reality, how could I claim certainty in the unknown? It means calling out to the decision I made a year ago, thus facing the truth in all its glory and shortcomings. It means reminding myself yet again that I called the shots, therefore I must live with the outcome of having outgrown old ways and self. The anger and anxiety have receded, replaced by calmness and quiet acceptance …and yet silence is an eloquently visceral speaker.
I guess I question, over and over, because I desperately want to understand.
If everything is great and wonderful and ripe with opportunity, then just why…
Why can’t I change my point of view and with that, embrace the warmth?
In a parallel time lapse, nearly two years ago, Third Sis mused via glass half-full lenses;
Maybe we are all simply twenty-something lost souls; misplaced in a matrix of intangible concepts. Maybe we think we’re each poets presented with a blank canvas known as life, tasked to fill the hollow spots with rays of hope, kindness, warmth and an openness to change. Maybe we’re meant to be perpetually lost, to not think we have it all figured out. Maybe the lessons we’re required to learn are so powerful that it matters not the number of our attempts, rather that we earn our keep and grasp the fruit of knowledge. Maybe we are just brimming with untapped potential.
Everything about myself feels strange, since coming here.
(do you now understand what I mean? It’s all a matter of perspectives)