That is the most intriguing question. My life. Above all others. I’m pretty convinced everyone agrees. So why not start with it.
Sometimes I’m just devastated when I don’t know what am I doing with my life. Just hanging around? Wasting the day for another day to come? Sometimes I feel very strongly that there must be something else. More. Something important. And I can’t get it. Like it’s lurking somewhere behind me, beside me, somewhere so close I could almost catch it. But never will. It’s frustrating!
It wasn’t long time ago I wrote to my notebook: If there was just me to think I knew exactly what to do. The truth is, there is not just me. Somedays I wish I was alone. Just me and my thoughts. My words. I love words by the way. I look up to people who know how to use them. Anyway, there are others. Always. I’m not sure am I happy about it or not. It’s hard for me to think about me when I could think about others. It’s not funny. It’s pretty sad, really.
Some wise man told me once that truly unselfish actions are those we make for ourselves. He justified it well but I can’t remember it anymore. I guess it had something to do with that when we are allowed to do the things that truly matter to us, we are happy, and when we are happy, we treat others better. It took some time for me to understand. I’m learning it, but not yet there. There is really nobody taking care of me if I don’t do it. Scary. In a way.
Oh well. What would I do then, if it was just me. Travel. Study. See things. Change. Move to foreign countries just to see how is life there. Anything else than this blandness of my life. My husband told me today when we were arguing, that I should do things, make myself happy and not wait him to help me with it. I agree, again, in a way. On the other hand I feel like he could do something as well. What should I do? Am I happy? Am I even contented? Am I alive?
Sometimes I feel the only option left is to start anew. Somewhere else. With somebody else. Then again I do feel that all the problems I have I have them in me. Inside. It’s quite possible that I wouldn’t be any happier with anybody. Even with some long lasted crush of mine. I do have those, who wouldn’t? If it was the One, still? I would be me, anyway. It wouldn’t change. So, I’m getting to a conclusion, the only thing I can change is myself. My thoughts. My ways of seeing things, doing things, dreaming of things. How to settle in everyday life when all I need is a change? I think the change has begun. I need to take responsibility of me. Stop being there for everybody else.
Do you agree?