I met someone in the form of a handsome man the other day who somehow woke me from the slumber I’ve been in and has made me long for things I thought I’d given up on for good. I should rejoice and celebrate the mere fact that I’ve gotten in touch with that softer side of myself again and maybe even allow myself to feel hopeful that wonderful things are on their way.
But instead, I feel miserable. Although I do my best not to, I can’t help but long for the phone to ring. Not to mention the angst, migraines, more angst and for once when sleep would really come in handy, too anxious to let myself shut down and rest for a while. Most people in my position might be floating on a little cloud, but in my case, I feel like the walls are closing in on me while I’m weighed down by a lead suit that makes me unable to move or think, never mind do something to make myself feel better. This is definitely no way to live.
So I had to ask myself: if I had to choose between the possibility of finding “true love” and achieving that state of complete calm and wellbeing—a feeling I experienced maybe twice in my life for just a few fleeting seconds (and ended as soon as I realized how good it felt)—which would I opt for? I didn’t have to think about this one too long: give me peace of mind. Once I have that, everything becomes a possibility as opposed to a punishing experience.