have you ever had that two seconds in your life—a random, yet very specific moment in your day—where you ask yourself, “Is this really the life I want to live?”
i had that today. as I hopped off the car after braving the city’s terrible rush hour traffic, right in the middle of the most secluded area of the building’s parking lot, i wondered: is this really the life i want to live?
the problem is, i don’t have an answer.
i can’t answer that question after a long, agonizing day because a part of my brain—that unquestionably tired part of my being—will tell me that whatever life i have right now isn’t the right one. that i chose wrong; and every no i tell myself always leads up to some very regrettable bad decisions.
and suddenly, it’s a cycle.
we regret one thing and then we find ourselves at the beginning of something, hoping that this is it: this is the one thing that’ll light up a spark in our lives, giving us purpose, a sense of being here.
but growing up, i realized that i had many cycles of fits and starts; of starting and ending one thing, then jumping to another.
i always thought that there was a destination, an ultimate version of you that sticks; a grand, final version of you that never changes. i always thought that there was a final chapter, a chapter that ties it all up—something that gives you an answer.
but i guess that’s where I was wrong.
because i’ve spent 20+ years, trying to figure out who i am and every time i finally think i do, something happens and it all bites me in the ass. so maybe, there’s no grand conclusion.
maybe, our whole life is designed in a way that allows us to awaken parts of ourselves that we don’t know of. that everything we experienced so far isn’t the whole picture but rather small, bite-sized parts of something we won’t ever figure out (of something way bigger than ourselves).
maybe it’s best to believe that there’s no final chapter. instead, we get a never-ending series of books. something that has the same character who tells a different story.
it took me a while to understand, and accept, that it’s okay to not figure it out; to not have all the answers. to have two-second moments in your life where it takes you by surprise, how big and large your life is. that there is a depth to your heart that you haven’t even begun to explore yet. that there is a kind of love you can give and sometimes, the love you can accept is a different kind of love.
it took me while to understand that. and that’s okay.