They all say “life goes on,” like I should find some comfort in it. But maybe that’s the true tragedy.

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I’ve come a long way away from myself in the past few years. I look in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at me. And I suppose that isn’t exactly a bad thing. I’ve grown leaps and bounds, but I always seem to find myself back to where I started. Point A. I’ve shed bits and pieces of myself. Pieces I never wanted to lose. And now I am, once again, a hollowed shell of myself. Am I still in there somewhere? How do I learn to allow myself to be happy? And to hold on to the happiness just as I do the sadness? I’m terrified of letting go of all the anger and grief that I cling to, to only become a watered down version of myself. What if all of that is what makes me who I am?

 

& What would be left of me?

What will happen, if in the end of it all, when we get to the end of our road, we find out we really are alone in the universe? That there is no greater power working in our favor. That all along it has been our own actions and decisions that set the dominoes, and there’s no one to blame but ourselves for the outcomes. No fate, no karma, no ‘meant to be.’ That all the time and energy we put into someone, something, without question, to follow blindly, a waste.

Just us, and our faults.

Will people be grateful for the false hope, false faith, if you will, that kept them going? Or angry at the deceit? Or perhaps just angry at themselves, for believing, for not making their own karma, for not living their own lives.

Which will you be?

Our Selfish Years.

It wasn’t until the summer of 2012, that I realized it wasn’t so much a connection to people that I was missing, but the connection to myself. This definitely opened a lot of doors, as well as closed some.

How do you find yourself, remember your passions, ideals, and curiosities, when you’re busy chasing ghosts? Because really, that’s all people are. A shell of who you once thought they were. A shadow of yesterday. And when you spend the minutes of a day, giving out pieces of yourself, there’s nothing left. Nothing left to swim deep enough to uncover your own hidden treasures. And a disconnection like that, hollows to the core. I’ve spent years questioning where this emptiness was coming from, and it wasn’t until that moment, that I could pin point the start of it.

I know the 20’s are our selfish years, the years we indulge in life. Dive into new beginnings, new possibilities. I suppose that means something different to each person. But I have never found a passion that has defined me so much to swerve off course and lose sight of other people. A connection with myself aids me in finding the selfless corners of within me. And to find other people, fighting their own battles, attempting to conquer their own struggles, well, really puts life and my own war into perspective.

I’m finding my 20’s are filled with realizing some battles aren’t worth fighting. Some people, aren’t worth fighting for. It often astonishes me to find that at my age, I still allow people to control my emotions. “Friends.” Selfish years or not, we’re now adults. And we are defined by what we can give, not what we can take. And now, after many, many years of sacrifices for others, I know that I have to stick to my own convictions. And as for everyone else, they’re water under the bridge. I can’t control what they say or do, anymore than they can control what I say or do. But I can control how I react to those things, and how they affect me. And I’m cutting the leash.

So tell me, are you worth the fight?