Tonight I sit in the stillness of my room, accompanied only by the shadows of my own feelings and memories. It’s a night of retrospection and melancholy, of long-forgotten wishes and unfulfilled fantasies. Slowly I let my eyes close and will my soul to leave my body, my life, all the things I’ve ever felt and known, behind. Sometimes too much is just too much and there’ll always be that point when I just want to give up after I’ve had enough. Sadly, as life never tires of reminding me, you don’t always get what you want when you want it.
I open my eyes and let out a discontented sigh. Once again, lost. Once again, searching frantically for answers to questions I’ve been asking all my life.
Where had those times gone, days when I was able to fall in love? Long afternoons spent daydreaming on the branches of the star fruit tree and nights I quietly sang love songs to myself, weaving fantasies that end with a lover’s kiss. It was my own personal age of innocence, hoping for that one true love, wishing for that happiness that I neither need to understand nor define.
Nights like these I sit alone reminiscing about the yesteryears. In my mind’s eye I see the boy that I once was; the boy who believed with all his might that everything and anything will always work itself out in the end. He was a boy who said a silent prayer every night and fell asleep listening to God whispering a lullaby in his ear. He stared at the moon and took in all the light. Against all odds, he still kept hoping, dreaming, wishing, and believing.
I walk over to the mirror and stared at myself. Am I ready and willing to throw in the towel and admit defeat to the world that has finally succeeded in changing me?
And it’s not just me. Every time I look around, I see that everyone’s changing, following their own paths down this winding road. We take what life throws at us and we keep walking. But where exactly are we going? And when we get there, is it worth losing the things that we give up along the way? It was a long time ago that I first asked those questions. Even after the accumulation of years and experiences I still haven’t found the answers.
Sometimes I wonder if I’d end up spending my entire life asking questions without ever finding the answers. I once said that it’s enough that I care enough to ask, but it gets tiring to walk around fumbling in the dark.
People say I think too much, that I ponder on things I shouldn’t. It would be easy, so much easier if I could just stop thinking and let myself be swallowed by the mundane activities and responsibilities of everyday life; if I just let myself grow up and go down the rabbit’s fur, find a comfortable place and settle down. If only I could forget the questions and forget who I was, am or will be; choose absolute certainty or total indifference as so many have done.
From what I’ve learned, life tends to get trickier instead of easier. It seems like I still have a long way of darkness to overcome before finally finding wherever it is that I belong.