I am the kind of person who craves structure because I enjoy resisting it; I like rules because I often want to break them, but like the stability of their existence.
I often make up rules for myself that are really arbitrary. How I eat. When I wake up. Things I do as I get ready. I don’t stick with them all that much, or really often at all. But as a consequence of my conditioning and the way I was raised, I like them to be there.
The grey areas in life are hard for me to comprehend most of the time. I am naturally drawn to most things that are hard to understand and kind of complicated because I think they’re interesting, but do my best to stay away from them because they contradict many of the rules I make for myself. I am also still young and probably filled with a bit of angst, which I know explains a lot of my decisions, as well.
I’m sitting here tonight though, wondering, do the grey areas get larger or smaller as I get older? It seems as I learn the things I can handle and the things I dislike in life, they should get smaller, but they don’t seem to do anything but grow.
And I suppose I’m just wondering is all. You know, how life works.
Being single on Valentine’s feels good.
I can only think of a handful of Valentine’s Days when I wasn’t single, to be honest. But I’ve still spent so many of them pretty sad.
It doesn’t feel good because I feel acutely aware of how wonderful it is to be single. In fact, the opposite. I believe we were made to desire partners, and that’s been on my mind lately. My life often looks different than I imagined it would, in the most wonderful ways, but this is the area where I notice the difference between daydreams and reality most.
This wasn’t what I planned.
I’ve spent a lot of years, a lot of Valentine’s Days, many Christmases and often birthdays wondering what exactly I’ve done to ensure I’ve spent so many holidays alone. There have been, proportionately, many of them. Thanks to several bottles of wine I’ve come up with virtually every personality flaw that’s contributed.
But this year I’ve been working pretty hard on myself. Trying to be someone I enjoy – and I don’t really mean that to have the self-deprecating air that it likely does while reading – I just mean I want to be better. I want to have a pretty heart with good desires. I want to love so much that it overcomes the bad things that seep in sometimes. I want to make a mark on the world with the love I put into it.
So I’ve been trying. Trying has felt pretty selfish. Trying has turned into learning, which has manifested itself in strange ways. Because loving the world in an adequate way starts with really loving myself first, and I’ve had to learn a few things and really get to know myself to do that. Which means I flew across the country once to see a guy who didn’t really feel the same, but I learned I’m capable of sticking up for my heart. One time it looked like kissing a boy in a bar then never seeing him again because he asked why he had to initiate plans (because I’m worth it is the answer). Other times it’s looked like yoga classes I can’t afford and spontaneous vacations with best friends. Sometimes it’s looked like saying things I regret just to figure out what exactly triggers certain reactions. It’s looked like standing in an ocean that radiates love just to realize what a powerful force it can be. Once last week it was a sunset, when I realized how much i value that kind of beauty. Learning has been an experience.
So, no, single on Valentine’s is never what I planned. But it doesn’t feel bad. It feels like love for myself and things I value, and eventually someone will get that, too.