I am convinced that I am forever doomed to be attuned to heartache. Melancholy. Or the bittersweet sting of "what if...?"
And, for what?
I live an incredible life, by any measure.
I have a wonderful family. I have a loyal and loving partner. I have great friends. I've had great friends since I dropped the bad actors years ago. My dog is an absolute angel. I enjoy my job. I travel regularly. I eat well. I have a beautiful home. I am learning how to navigate my health and feel better (physically) than I have in several years.
So what's my deal? I wish I could split myself into pieces and follow different paths and collectively know the endings to all of the stories I began but didn't finish.
Maybe that's what we get to do in the end. I just hate my heart for wanting it.
It makes me feel like I am not truly grateful for the life that I have. But I am?
Ugh. Angst in the mid-30s. Who knew?
xDarkEyesx · Fri Mar 22, 2024 @ 11:13pm · 0 Comments |