I don’t think trying not to expect much is working for me anymore. I don’t think not getting my hopes up is effective. I don’t think this is the right way to approach my life. I don’t think it’s a healthy way to live.
I used to have dreams and ideals and excitement and plans. I used to romanticize and imagine. Now I sit and wait. Smiling at everybody around me and thinking that I have it as good as I’ll ever get it. Content is better than loneliness and unhappiness. It might not be totally happy but what is that anyways. Why do I always feel like it is a few steps in front of me? Why do I feel like if a couple more things fall into place I will be living in the bliss I always dreamed of? Why can’t I be content with where and who I am. Who I’m with. Who I chose. Doubts cloud my mind constantly and drown out the chances at happy thoughts over and over again. I’m getting weary, tired of trying to choke down my thoughts, my what ifs. My if onlys. If only I could accept my life at it is right now. If only I could be strong enough to hold on. If only I could look into the future with hope rather than see it as a daunting cell. If only I could do all these things.
But in those moments I don’t say I after if only. I say he and she. I blame and try to correct others. Like the cynical, perfectionistic, unsatisfied, ungrateful person I have become. If only he cared enough to try. If only he understood and tried to hear my point. If only he did what that guy is doing right there. If only he was here. If only she was nicer. If only she wasn’t so close minded. If only she listened to me without shutting me down every time. If only. If only. If only I could shut up and see that I’m the one holding myself back from my happiness. Because I am. Aren’t I? That’s the only explanation for how I feel sometimes. And by sometimes I mean all of the time in the back of my head. In the dark cavern of my mind where the guilt and anger and dissatisfaction reside. Festering and eating at me until they finally consume my thoughts and I can’t hold it in anymore. If only I really was good. But everyone has good and bad together. I don’t know what I’ve been suppressing but it is knawing at my thoughts. Do I want to be safe or happy? Can I have both? I ask too much. I’m too demanding. Too dissatisfied. And for what reason? To what end?
I have no idea.