2017's first post isn't a happy one
Living in this generation of people who are wildly opposed to the idea of commitment and true love, I feel strangely displaced in this community and setting.
You see so many articles nowadays talking about how people aren't after love anymore - they're just interested in temporary companionship, entertainment, fun and games. They struggle to remain honest, fiercely loyal and true. They give up on things that aren't working perfectly and throw them away instead of trying to fix them.
But where does that leave someone like me? Sometimes, I don't know if I envy people who are selfish like that. They can hurt the feelings of someone else with little regard or concern. They go about their self centered ways without feeling an ounce of guilt or remorse.
Moving on from one target and victim to the other, their life is a widely accepted cycle of not exactly being unhappy, and yet, never really being happy. That's what I feel most people experience in their lives. Yeah - most things don't bother them that much. But because they never care about anything that much, nothing will ever make them THAT happy.
So which is worse? Being too vulnerable, overly trusting, self-giving, borderline gullible and fragile or being understatedly selfish, overly guarded, and generally unfeeling. As Taylor Swift sings, "so it's gonna be forever, or it's gonna go down in flames, you can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain."
It is my belief that people who place themselves in a safe bubble, where they never risk themselves entirely, never experience true happiness or sorrow. They're like safe ships in the harbor, where they could never sink out in the stormy seas, and they don't have to brave the tough weather and elements.
But ships weren't built to stay in the harbor, were they? We were all put on this earth to love one another, to grow, learn and laugh together. Or sometimes, we're here to teach someone else a lesson.
That's always one way to look at something that didn't work out, Jess. If something bad happens, it happened to teach you a lesson. That's the only way I've learned to cope with all the horrid things that have been thrown in my face.
Lately, I've began feeling that it's not worth it to be too kind. It doesn't pay to believe in the niceness of other people, because often you'll find, that you were misconceived.
I am undecided if seeing the best in people is a good or a bad trait. It's good in the namesake of kindness, but honestly, when you are good to a point whereby you're good even to a person who doesn't deserve that goodness, then is that just not plain foolishness?
I struggle with blurred lines between idealism and reality. In my head, I'm a logical person. But when it comes to my heart, oh my heart.. It will be the death of me. The things it yearns for, seem so desperately normal, yet out of reach.
Sometimes I feel like crying out in despair because when I think about what I want the most in life, it's the most seemingly basic things that I grew up without, then believing that it was a given in most people's lives. And yet despite being so simple, they are the hardest things to reach for. Somehow, just completely out of my reach.
You know what I really want?
I want a happy, normal family. I want kind words, encouragement to come more naturally than fault finding. I want to find someone to settle down with. I want simple dinners with people I love. I want completeness, and acceptance even in the presence of flaws. I want unbiased judgement, and people having the maturity of being able to agree to disagree. If it doesn't hurt you or anyone else, we don't have to force everyone to live the way we expect them to.
I believe in monogamy, and I want someone who has the same values as I do. I want someone who can fight for something and protect it with their last dying breath the way I would do the same for them.
I want long walks on the beach, I want staring into each other's eyes for extended periods of time, I want talking for hours on end about everything and nothing, I want the truth even when it's a painful ugly truth, I want brutal honesty, I want righteousness and someone who believes in doing the right thing as much as I do.
And that's a lot to ask for, right? Someone who's values and morals mirror yours. In this day and age, agreeing to disagree is already considered the peak of acceptance. We don't actually have to agree. We just have to agree not to rip each other's throats out for it.
But somehow, it just isn't enough for me. "Okay" isn't good enough. Okay isn't good. Good, is good enough. Tolerance shouldn't be for something that's eating you up inside. Not speaking up is weakness, and not strength.
And for the longest time, I thought that this was a problem with myself. I let myself feel like the problem this whole the time. I told myself I have unrealistic expectations for expecting my partner to be someone who wouldn't let me down. If I was let down, then it would be my problem for having those expectations in the first place. That's what everyone else seems to say, anyway.
Until I realized - they are all wrong. Someone can only meet you as deeply as they've met themselves.
I'm a modern girl in a contemporary world, but there are certain traditions I would never trade away for anything else. Even if it was more convenient to be "liberal".
I'm getting really tired being the way I am. Being the giver when it comes to relationships as I have always believed that there is joy in giving and providing, but recently it feels as though I am running myself dry. I am running out of hope, enthusiasm, and the fire in me that was ignited when I was born into a broken family.
A fire that rose from the very bed of ashes it was originally consumed in, I told myself that I wasn't going to be like them. I wouldn't intentionally hurt the feelings of someone I loved or held dear to me, I would never settle for less, and that I wouldn't pretend to be okay with something I wasn't okay with. I would live fearlessly and walk on the right path, even if it meant walking it alone.
And I guess I was right about one thing - I do seem to be alone most of the time. Moral encouragement and concerned texts from friends are nice, really, I appreciate them. But I cannot adequately explain to you how broken my heart is is, because it has effectively been broken for too many times over many years by things far more tragic than failed romantic relationships, until I no longer can tell you where the last stitch is, because I don't even recognize what it is anymore.
I am a master of making things look pretty on the outside in a bid to salvage things so you'll never have guessed how broken it is on the outside, and Dayre is a small glimpse into that masked morbidity. I liken the highlight reel of social media to masking a sad soul with a pretty smile. Just because I'm smiling all the time, doesn't mean I'm actually okay. But what do you expect me to do - put up a pitiful front to display my unhappiness? Who has time to indulge in that sort of self pity?
I have never felt more alone in my entire life, not because I have no friends, or because I don't have anyone to talk to.
It's just that you don't understand the real meaning of loneliness until you're surrounded by so many people and feel that none of them can effectively understand where your position is, the struggles you've gone through or feeling like you shouldn't bother them because they have their own problems to deal with anyway.
And when even no amount of words suffice, because words can't put what you feel into place. When words, actions, alcohol, drugs, self pity, tears just aren't enough. All you are left with is quiet.
The silence is not deafening and scary like it used to be when I was younger. Now that I am older and understand that just because your world feels like it is crashing down on you doesn't mean you will actually die - a part of you will, but as a being, your days will continue. The planet still revolves, and so, this silence is calm, in an eerie sort of way.
I don't fight it as much. It is the quiet acknowledgement of defeat, knowing you have given it your all, but still, your all just wasn't quite enough.
It's so tiresome to give yourself away - every time I do, I struggle to find the pieces to put myself back together when somebody else throws them away. Maybe this is how people become hardened, cold and jaded.
Maybe jaded people haven't always been jaded. Maybe jaded people used to be like me once. I'd like to think that once upon a time, most people believed in being the best that they can be. Love was kind, selfless, patient and lifting. But it was never returned properly, and not everyone bounces back from being broken.
There's a quote that goes, "everyone is a little broken - that's how the light gets in." I used to find comfort in this sentence.
But perhaps some people are so terrified of getting their heart broken that when it first cracked, they made it a point to fill the hole with something so dark and permanent that nothing else could penetrate through. No warmth or light is getting through here.
I may or may not just turn into a person I grew up swearing I would never become. My biggest worry about growing older isn't money, status or possessions - it's that I don't essentially like who I am, who I'm with, or what I'm doing. I would hate to be 30, 40, 50 and looking back feeling like I could have done so much better.
Make the most out of life, or let life get the better of you. Or die trying.
Thursday, 5 Jan 2017
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