I’ve started a new life. Again.
I left the one I thought was “the one.” I found a new job. I’ve a resolution to not get into a serious relationship for a year (but I’ve been praying really hard that if God wills PGPC to come my way, I will plunge head first even if I end up getting a big bukol on my forehead!!). I’m in a new house! I’ve new friends and am renewing past friendships.
How many times do I get to start over? Need to start over? Does this happen to everyone? Will it end?
How many times will I make someone cry? Hurt them… Cause them to feel as if they’re not worth even a single tear, not even worthy to be looked back on. And how many times will I feel this too?
I’m a year older. Again.
Somehow I feel as if I were more mature back in high school. The sheltered world I was privileged to live in gave me a clear sense of the self I wanted to be – a girl passionate and wild and soft and bright – human. Even in college, I was blessed enough to find a gang of “lost boys” who made my fairytales last longer while anchoring me well and good with two feet planted on the muddy ground.
Those were the days… Will I be able to live again in those moments of utter freedom? Did living in such state usher me into the murky path of confused decisions? Am I content to stand still in the middle of my colorful nowhere?
I understand that I need to make my own choices. I cannot – rather, I do not have any one anymore who’s willing or capable to drag me along allowing me to continue sightseeing and daydreaming, instead of carefully picking my way amongst life’s potholes. But just what should those choices be?
Am I stuck?
… Again?
