Maybe, It’s Me.

My mind keeps wondering so many places, that I can’t concentrate.

Sometimes I feel so in control, like everything is in my hands and I know exactly where I can place everything and then suddenly everything just falls to the floor, and I’m forced to pick up the pieces again.

My heart just wants to wonder everywhere…and it feels like it’s caught on something.  No matter how hard I yank and pull, I can never be completely free.

And maybe that’s my problem.

I keep thinking about wiping the dirt of this crummy old town off my feet, that I forget that I can’t wipe away who I am deep down.

I can’t wipe away all my insecurities and doubts; I can’t pass the blame onto everyone and everything else.

I can run, but I can’t hide away from myself.

If I’m so dissatisfied with my life, maybe it’s not the scenery or the major or the friends or enemies that I need to change or runaway from…maybe it’s me.

I don’t like the scene I’m living in, but that’s just the now, not forever.

I’ve changed my college major so many times I’ve lost count, and I’ve found that each one holds it’s own set of doubts.  I’m not afraid of trying; I’m afraid of the aftermath of failing.

I’ve disassociated myself from certain people but I’ve found that they weren’t  the root of my unhappiness.  Granted, some of these people are better off not being in my life, but if I can’t forgive, then that is another form of my own unhappiness.

I could blame my unhappiness on lack of relationships and the age old saying that “nobody cares about little old me”.

But I’m the one who makes my bed and has to lie in it each night.

It’s like blaming the sky for bringing rain and soaking me wet, but when it boils down to it, I’m the one who didn’t bring an umbrella.

At the beginning of this year, I said the only person I can change is myself.

This is how I feel about life right now, I’m so busy fighting off the weeds in my garden, that I don’t even notice the flowers in my life.

And that’s sad.

Because the entire point I made about last year is that I spent too much time picking weeds and trying to be more “successful”, that I forgot to have any moments. I didn’t stop and smell the roses is what I’m trying to say.

And I’m tired of the circle I keep going round-n-round in.

It’s like, I’m picking this weed and that weed and I’m going to get through college, and I’m going to move out and I’m going to get an amazing job and explore the world and oh, then I’ll be satisfied and happy with my life.

And that’s not how life should be.

Clearly, satisfaction doesn’t exist.  The world has made success so distorted that we don’t even know when to be satisfied or if we should be.

Happiness is like candy, you eat it and then it’s gone.

So I’m just going to enjoy life.  I’m going to sing at the top of my lungs to the radio while sitting at stop lights, maybe I’ll roll the windows down.  Because who cares what people think.

I’m going to finish college, but I’m going to enjoy it while it’s here.

I’m going to live at home with my parents, and yeah, that sounds so completely uncool, but life is just like that right now.  It’s not always going to be this way. So I’m going to enjoy the evenings I spend talking to my parents about my day and hearing about theirs.  I’m going to enjoy how loud the house is when Ru is on the a rampage while I’m trying to study, because someday it’s going to be quiet, and I know I’m going to miss it.

It’s not complete satisfaction, because the kind I’m searching for doesn’t exist until I get to Heaven, but it’s a content kind of satisfaction none the less; to have a family that is there when you get home, who heats up the leftovers for you when you’ve worked on Christmas Eve, and who will always have a light on for you no matter how far you’ve gone or how long you stayed away.

~ Tru