Am I in love?
I always thought I never liked people in that way. Which still could be true. Or maybe not...
I never had a father. Well, I do have a biological male 'parent' but he was only there (which was two times a year for a few hours) for my mother and not for me. He has never been my father. That could be the reason I seek for male validation wherever I go. Daddy issues.
When I was in high school, I though that I was an asexual person. Then I started meeting people in college and discovered my obsessive desire for male validation which completely differed from actually liking someone. I tried dating people and gave them a fair shot, but they started annoying me after a few dates. That's how I realised it wasn't me who liked them in the first place. It was my issues.
Then one day I met this person. I started seeing the light in his eyes. I started noticing things that he liked and making mental notes in my head unconsiously. He was almost like the light that got me out of my depression. I may exaggerate it and maybe he just happened to be there when my depression started fading more progressively but it still felt like it. I started seeing more of him. His smile, his looks and his soul. I liked it so much to the point where I would look for him everywhere (even when there was a zero % chance of seeing him). He opened up a gate of hope for me. A hope that I might truly like people and that I wasn't a lost cause. And as a 'brave' person I asked him out... He said that he was in a relationship. It was my downfall. The only person that I might have liked was already taken. Or maybe that was his polite way of rejecting me. Either way, he didn't choose me.
I never got rejected before romantically. I tried dating other people to forget him but apparently, they weren't him. I spent months trying not to think of him that way. And I thought it was working. Until... I got reminded of him. Every little thing that reminded of him. The watch that was two minutes ahead, crocheted sunny keychain, knitted burgandy sweaters, vegetarian food, Frank Sinatra, One Republic. Every time I saw them, I got a bit sad grieving the possibility of finding out who we could've been together. Isn't it pathetic? I didn't even know him that well. But he brought that calmness in my heart that I needed so desperately. I still crave that calmness and peace in my heart, but I haven't found that anywhere else.
Recently I had this opportunity to go on a date with one of his clsoe friends. I always knew that he might like me that way but I never did like him. Even as a person to be friends with. But I went on a date with him. Just to get some updates on him. Or to have even the slightest chance of seeing him ever again. Now, THAT is pathetic. Should I trade my freedom by dating the guy I don't like at all for a slight chance of getting closer to the person I possibly love? Even as friends. I just want to be there with him and see him every day. Just to feel this peace in my heart and soul. He brought the peace to my anxious soul and now he is gone.
What if he said yes? Would I still love him after that? Or would I be bored and annoyed of him after a week? Is it the rejection that made me replace like with love? Is it the reason I am stil so drawn to him?
Is this love?
I don't know what to do! ...or do I?
That happened to me before and I though I got out of it but apparently not so much. Am I falling to the same well I somehow got out of before?
It was one of the school summers where I would be left alone with my sister during the days. I was a child – maybe transitioning to a teenager. She was in high school. I was bored. We would be home alone everyday without any action happening. Well, at least for me. My whole world consisted of school and my mother, and the summers were for my grandmother deluxe hotel vacations. But the older you get, the further you grow from your grandmother somehow. Or maybe it was just me. I would run around our house and say that I was bored and had nothing to do. Then my sister would say to me with judgemental tone that there is so much in life to do, how can you be bored; pick what you like or want, and do it. I couldn't understand her at the time, but years later, when I got to high school somehow I started wearing that “how can you be bored, there is so much you can do in life” of hers and I was comfortable.
It was a part of me for a long time. By long, I mean the teenage years at school. Then the great depression of adult/college life hit me like a truck in those korean dramas at their last episodes. And suddenly, there was nothing to do for me. Or maybe the sentence was not complete yet: there was nothing to do for me that I liked/loved. So, the real issue here is not what I could do but rather what I would like to do.
Can we go with our lives doing only what we want to do? Of course, only if you are lucky enough to know exactly (or vaguely) what it is. And can it be something small in the beginning or something big at the end? Let's take the career thing:
If I don't like studying economics but I would love to be a personal invester/somethingelseIwouldalsoloveatthetime in the future. Should I force myself through life I hate into the possible future life I would love?
Now, thinking about it, I think that I should find a balance. After all, balance is the key to living a happy (or relatively happy) life in my opinion. Maybe enjoying other things is possible while you are still struggling with other. Or does those strugglings make the other parts of life more fun? Does it enhance the experience of life? Is that why we all create some external or internal challenges in our lives when there is nothing coming at us? Maybe living in a care-free world isn't pleasureful as it sounds. And some obsticles create that interesting pattern in the fabric of our lives.
Huh, is it too obvious that I'm binging SATC?
Trading Armour for Pajamas
Well, here I am. Sitting in my room. Looking at a half-empty page trying to come up with words to express my thoughts that don't exist yet or haven't found their 'physical' form in my mind.
I've always been a bit reluctant when it came to writing and expressing through words. I've never been good with words. Numbers – see, that's where I shined. The emphasis should be on 'ed'. I've always imagines as: numbers – my suit of armour, and words – silky pajamas that keep slipping away from my body. You'd feel naked in silky pajamas too if you were on a battlefield. So, my obvious choice was suit of armour. But I guess it is time to lose that rusty armour, put on some nice pajamas and get the fuck away from the battlefield straight to the cozy cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Despite being skeptical about writing, and words in general I've always had this dream deep down in my subconsious mind – to be a writer. To be able to express my profound views on things and situations for the outside world, and my own inside world as well. If there is anything profound in it (which I hope should be there).
See, ever since I dropped out of college I've lost myself. The person I knew my whole life. The person I've been creating brick by brick. It all fell apart the moment depression had stept into my life leaving me with this new person to discover. But alongside with depression came this tule fog. So, naturally, my first thought was to find my old self that used to be there before. But the more I looked for old things to appear, the more I got confused. Slowly I started to realise that there was no old me in there, only something new to discover.
To wrap it up I'd say – don't look for something you've lost, find somethings you've never had.