Just finish this post, Marianne.

Lately, I’ve been starting a lot of blog posts and then it reaches a point where I can’t continue. It gets too dark, it gets too personal and I can’t get myself out of the black hole that has been my heart lately. But today I will try to finish one no matter where it takes me.

I don’t feel lonely often, I’ve said this many times. I like the feeling of having the day to myself, to be free from social restraints and to let my mind wander.

I don’t miss people often either; I keep my people close to my heart and in my thoughts often enough, that I don’t feel too far away from them.

But today and the last few days (weeks, months, whatever) these thoughts keep reoccurring. I am lonely and I miss people. And it’s truer now than ever.

It’s Sunday and I’d go out and watch a movie. Or eat at a restaurant and recount all the stupid stories accumulated during the week. And I would laugh over the little things. And for a few seconds, I’d feel a connection before it’d be lost again (or was it an illusion? I’m not quite sure anymore). Then I’d return home, to relive the same week over again.

This Sunday morning and the last few have been different. I didn’t get called to wake up. I didn’t rush to yoga. I didn’t eat a delicious breakfast and share stories. I’m still in bed. And I chose this.

And I can’t help but blame myself for the things I can’t control.  God if I could only do this and this and this. If only I could change this…? If only I was stronger and smarter and healthier and more loving and compassionate and kind and understanding and patient. If only I could control what I can’t. If only I could change people… 

Then I get reminded that I can only change myself and I have been changing myself. I learn psychology to understand me. I reflect. I work hard, to the best of my capabilities. I don’t settle for less. I face my faults straight on and I try my best to work on everything all at once.

I try my best and it’s not enough… it’s not enough to save what I had. It’s not enough to fix what is broken. It’s not enough to make me happy. And so I ask myself, what is enough?

I want to wake up in the morning, be a child again and laugh over the simple things. Feel true joy in my heart that doesn’t rub against the dead thing within me. I want to fix all the broken pieces that I keep finding. I want to share this with people I love. I want to protect them from the pains I feel, and all the pain they feel.

I want so many impossible things. And maybe the most impossible thing is just being enough for me… to accept that maybe this is the start of continuous lonely Sundays. And that I am lonely that it’s okay.

It’s okay and it’s going to be okay. I might live an average and lonely life and that I’ll keep trying to change that and it might be futile. I have to accept all of my decisions. I have to accept all of my failures. I have to accept that I can’t control everything. I must submit and surrender… and accept that too.

Just like life, this post has no point but has an ending.

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