Today I have been thinking of the kind of life I'd imagined for myself. I know for sure that this isn't the one. Perhaps I'd expected more. Or maybe I'd just expected different things. Different isn't always more. Different isn't better either I realize.
I think maybe I ended up with bits and pieces of the life that I'd imagined. And that is sometimes the absolute worst that can happen. That awful feeling when you're shown what could have been and then have it snatched away. It isn't even a case of grass and the perceptions of its 'greenness'. It quite simply is the absoluteness of shut doors and lost opportunities and just not being able to keep up anymore with the mad rat race of having it all or at least having what you absolutely must have.
When I look back at the times that I have been absolutely happy, it has rarely had to do with another human being. It has been about places, books, paintings, spaces. What does that say about me? Other humans even in my imagined life (or all my imagined lives) have been incidental to other ephemera and even not so ephemeral things.
Somehow in my head and in the farthest reaches of my imagination, life (mine) is much more magical. Maybe the magic is my own sense of entitlement in my imagined self. Something I cannot seem to muster in the real. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't know.
As a milestone approaches, I'm drawing an absolute blank when I think of both my imagined and 'lived' lives. I don't know where things go from here. I cannot seem to conjure up an idea of where I need to go either. I'm confronted by the question - so, what now? Where do I go from here?
I think maybe I ended up with bits and pieces of the life that I'd imagined. And that is sometimes the absolute worst that can happen. That awful feeling when you're shown what could have been and then have it snatched away. It isn't even a case of grass and the perceptions of its 'greenness'. It quite simply is the absoluteness of shut doors and lost opportunities and just not being able to keep up anymore with the mad rat race of having it all or at least having what you absolutely must have.
When I look back at the times that I have been absolutely happy, it has rarely had to do with another human being. It has been about places, books, paintings, spaces. What does that say about me? Other humans even in my imagined life (or all my imagined lives) have been incidental to other ephemera and even not so ephemeral things.
As a milestone approaches, I'm drawing an absolute blank when I think of both my imagined and 'lived' lives. I don't know where things go from here. I cannot seem to conjure up an idea of where I need to go either. I'm confronted by the question - so, what now? Where do I go from here?
I'm glad you chose to spell out the difference- between a 'grass greener' phenomenon and simply the fact that you've been shown the prospect of happiness and something better and had it taken away. The older I got, the more I wished I could have pick the happiest year of my life and relive it over and over again :)
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