I have been feeling weird lately. I dunno. I feel happy, sad, scared, excited, hopeful, hopeless...
Today's Morning Rush topic was the Top Ten "The Only Thing Missing in My Life is...". Hah. I can think of only one answer. I suppose it's almost what everybody's searching for, but well, some of us aren't that lucky to find it. And sometimes it is so late in the game and you can't help but wonder if you have been meant to be left behind by the freakin' bus.
I think I feel weird because I am torn between being a jaded pessimist or a hopeful idealist.
I am reading "In the Meantime" by Iyanla Vanzant now. My officemate Vic lent it to me with a Post-It that says: "Enjoy! Hope you find the right guy. But in the meantime..." Hmm. There. In the meantime, I am supposed to read this book ;P. It's a nice read and here are some lines that struck me:
"In the meantime, you must remember that just when things look like they are falling apart, they are actually falling into place -- the divine place they should be for everyone involved."
Okay. So this is where The Hopeful Idealist me comes in. I believe in God. And I believe that He has His Divine Plan for me. Everybody has given me that crappy line about the One coming into your life when you least expect it, the One being sent to you by God, the One you were meant to be with for the rest of your life... that thou shall not be impatient, thou shall wait, thou shall keep the faith.
At the darkest points of my life, I have asked God for guidance. I asked Him to show me what all this drama was all about. I sometimes console myself by thinking that all these sad tragic love affairs had happened for a reason. There, the biggest cliche of 'em all: Everything happens for a reason. And what freakin' reason is it, I dare ask? They say that when you finally find the One, all the tears, the pain and the suffering will all finally make sense. That all that sh*t you've gone through will be sooo worth it. You were meant to undergo hell so you can truly appreciate heaven. Or so they say. I have yet to debunk this theory that most hopeless romantics are led to believe.
"In the same way I would fight in my mind, I would fight my feelings. There are certain things I simply would not allow myself to feel. I would fight to hold it back. I would struggle to keep it from coming up and spilling across my lips. I would fight rather than feel, because I knew I could survive getting beat up. I did not know if I would survive going to the depths of my emotions. That, I am told, could blow your mind."
Ok now here's The Jaded Pessimist talking: I have gone through so much dramatic sh*t in my so-called love life that I think I have come to a point that I cannot take it anymore. I am tempted to command myself to NOT believe in that ever-elusive romantic crap that everyone has been dreaming to find all their life. I mean, why torture myself with dreaming about it? Hasn't what happened been enough proof that most of the time it's more of misses than hits? I think it's a defense-mechanism thing for me though.
I am scared of falling in love again and going through all that giddy hopeless romantic girly feelings. I think I wanna shift back to being the Ice Queen. When you have been hurt badly, it is but natural to protect yourself and be cautious as to whom you open your heart to. I do not want to unconsciously give anyone the power to hurt me again. I have promised myself that I should light up my own life and hold my happiness in my own hands. I must not depend on that crap about finding the One and living happily ever after. Love does not move in mysterious ways. If it does not move nor budge, it is simply just not meant to be. And being an adult, you should deal with that. It may be a bitter pill to swallow but I will chose it over having my heart torn to pieces at any given day.
They ask me if there is a spark. They ask me if I like him. Hell yes! But I do not want to fall into the traps of stupid great expectations that leave you high and dry. I keep telling myself that nice guys are exactly just that. It is suicide to ever hope that something will happen. I would rather set myself up for disappointment than hopelessly pine for someone whom I don't even know if he feels anything for me at all. I have learned my lesson from my college's ITY. I do not ever want to go into that road again.
Hmm. I wonder if age and experience has made me wiser or if it has made me cynical?
And don't you just hate it (and hmm, kinda love it at the same time -- 'gotta admit that!) how everything seems so contrived and/or forced? It cannot go on like this forever though.
It's so hard when you sooo want to get back into the game but you are sooo afraid. And so you build your little wall. Happy are those who get found by the One (especially sent by God to you) who'll understand how scared you are and will wholeheartedly reach out his hands and patiently wait until you take them and come out of your shell. Ahhh, now that's love right there.
Hmm. It's a scary big, big world out there.
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