Life is where I want it to be. It wasn’t something planned or pursued, but the pieces fell into a neat little picture. For a while, I was caught up in the tornado of chaos and although I have always resented people who found God because it felt like weakness and sounded like excuses, I now believe it was by his grace.
I surrendered. I prayed. I sought.
Now my days are filled with love.
I was given a Pomeranian and I named her Cherie. I look forward to every Tuesday night for the beat of a basketball and other days I find solace in other forgotten passions. I have also returned to the ones I grew up with and realized they never left me despite everything.
The year without them was like a year without rain. I felt empty and alone even though I had other friends because they were the only ones I wanted to be with. Time spent with others is nice but so is travelling – at the end of the day, all we want to do is to go home. They know me, every flaw and habit, nothing I said could ever shock or awe. I always assumed that most people had a posse, a gang, a group, a crew. But I’ve begun to understand that not everyone is blessed the same way. Although there is nothing I would ever change.
I’ve grown a distaste for articles which try to tell me about happiness or any such nonsense because they made me question myself, convinced me that I was depressed and living meaninglessly because I did not crave for adventure unless adventure was by the side of my crew. I do not indulge in fantasies of chasing my dreams because some are made to be daydreams, neither did I appreciate solitude nor did I lust for the unknown. Everything on the internet told me I was boring, wasting my time and with no purpose. They are all but right. There’s a reason for everyone’s comfort zone. It is a personalized lifestyle, filled with sacrifice and hard choices in order to create that balance of what you ultimately prioritize. I have camaraderie you cannot find in the company of strangers, my memories are shared with a family of friends who will never let me forget, my time has been given to the ones who matter and that makes all the difference.
When writing your own story, don’t let anyone else hold the pen. We all grew up differently, by way of perception and outside influence. What you seek may not be another’s desire, so how can one lousy article, written from one person’s unique viewpoint be the benchmark of what it truly means to be alive?
Happy birthday to me.
