I’m not even sure how to begin this or how it will ultimately turn out. What I do know is that life happens and I have an urge to write about it, even if it’s messy, unorganized, and not pretty. Kinda like me sometimes.
These past few months I would describe my life as “alright”. Nothing has gone completely terribly wrong, and I’ve had more good days than bad. Part of me accepts this with gratitude and part of me desires to change that, not allowing myself to live a life of mediocracy.
It’s easy for me to say that I long to do that, when in reality pushing myself to step outside of these boundaries of “fine” is the difficult part. This stage of “alright” has found me in a rut. I’ve sat down to write a blog post on more than one occasion, only to find myself lacking any sort of inspiration. I feel like my best writing has come from times of extreme highs or lows.
I almost posted a Facebook status yesterday asking for some sort of direction, wondering what topic it is that you, the one reading this right now, would actually want to take your time to read about. For some reason, I never posted that status, but then life happened and that’s what has brought us here.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the difference in being lonely and being alone. I’ve never really felt myself in long periods of time feeling lonely. As someone told me the other day—I was a “late bloomer” (hahah, I was a little offended but hey, it is what it is). I really hope I have yet to actually “bloom” and that I never fully make it there. I’d rather always work towards growing to be stronger and more beautiful than at some point starting to wilt.
I say this because since no boy in high school ever even batted an eye at me, I grew into an individual who thrives off of strong friendships and alone time. Not to say you cannot feel alone while you’re in a romantic relationship, but I do know people who find themselves in extreme loneliness after they have engulfed themselves into a relationship that doesn’t work out. They fail to maintain their individuality because they are so caught up in the fairytale of romance when things are going well. Your relationships should enhance your life, not define it.
Don’t get me wrong, I am completely a hopeless romantic and I’ve definitely felt lonely after a love interest fizzled away for whatever reason. Finding yourself missing spending time with someone, the person as a whole, or maybe the person who you thought they were. The last one is the worst in my eyes. What I didn’t do was allow myself to sulk in this feeling. I felt it for some time, accepted the way things were, and then remembered who I was before them. Luckily, I’ve never lost myself for too long.
I have a point, I think. Lately, I have experienced loneliness, but it has nothing to do with any boy. I’m back in my hometown after 4 years away, finding this city feeling like a completely new place than what my childhood consisted of. My strong support system is spread out around different places and I’ve been reminded that friends can break your heart too. It’s this heartbreak that has made me feel lonelier than ever before and one that is hard to move on from.
I’ve come to realize that I gravitate towards broken people. Before you get offended because you think maybe I’m talking about you, let me remind you that we are all broken. Including me. I find this to be comforting and I hope you do too. What I’ve also realized is that I find myself longing to “fix” these broken people. Ultimately, we’ll always be a little bit broken but you can’t pick up my pieces and I can’t pick up yours. I hope you find the strength that I know you have to do this on your own.
I’m doing my best and I like to think that everyone is. I’m working through this time knowing that there will always be disappointments and probably more heartbreaks down the line. I’m embracing this loneliness and using it to my advantage, trying to strengthen who I am and learn more about myself. Our imperfections are what makes us who we are, disappointments make us stronger, and life is always teaching us, even when we choose not to listen. Right now, my ears are perked.