Tag Archives: self-discovery

Searching for a way to find a way

It’s been a couple months since I wrote here, and as usual, I came into this feeling like I had a pretty good idea what I wanted to write about. I don’t think it’s going to work out that way though. My life feels pretty ambiguous lately, and I think my scatterbrained thoughts here won’t deny that.

It’s literally been over 3 years now since I was last in a relationship. And if you think that’s absurd, perhaps even more depressing is that I haven’t even been on a date in over 2 years. “You need to put yourself out there more”, people say. Well, duh. Working 8 hours a day, sleeping 7 hours a day, tending to my cats like 1-2 hours a day and grooming my own personal need to recharge and be alone for all other hours unaccounted for doesn’t necessarily leave a lot of time for love, sex, and friendship.

I am alone. And I think I’m okay with that. But I’m not always so certain. I feel like I put so much pressure on myself to feel like I should be giving myself to the universe and… well, in effect I’m trying to induce feelings that I’ve been coming to recognize as unnatural for me.

“What?” You say?

I love being alone. I really fucking do. Sometimes the world tricks me into thinking otherwise, but in the end I always seem to understand my version of happiness as exploring life and exploring myself all by myself. Maybe I used to dream of getting married someday and having children, maybe I used to think you can’t make it in this life without having someone to depend on 100%, and maybe I understand that these things are totally subject to interest me again someday in the future, but right now I just feel like it’s all a hindrance. It’s all keeping me from really knowing myself.

To be honest, I mourn this as well. I regret that I’m wasting my youth and beauty on being isolative. And this regret contributes to how much I isolate myself in other regards. I’m not pursuing hobbies or interests. In truth, I’m literally doing nothing to explore myself. WHAT A WASTE.

This is why I just feel so damned sad all the time. My lack of confidence in myself holds me back from understanding myself better, and my lack of understanding for myself holds me back from pursuing interpersonal relationships. I feel like I missed a pivotal chapter in my life where I should have been embracing things just for the sake of fulfilling myself and my own expectations. I missed a chapter of mistakes and learning and growing as a result. Holding myself back and feeling undeserving has always come natural to me.

So where do I go from here? How do I discover what I am and become who I am supposed to be?  It sounds silly, but for so long I’ve been searching for a way to find a way to be happy.  And if you think that sounds like I spend a lot of time thinking instead of doing, you’d be right.  I need to do away with the rhetoric.  I need to do.


Four seasons of heartbreak.

I heard somewhere the other day a reference to something called the “Four Seasons of Heartbreak”.  Or maybe it was of “dating”.  Or of “break-up”.  Who’s to say, really.  This is what such an idea means to me:


You left me towards the end of spring, though I guess we’d seen some days of summer go by together as well.  All of my initial grieving was done in the midst of summer.

I don’t have many memories of you from last summer.   Mostly just our river valley adventure, and the two ducks that reminded us of ourselves.  Of course our trek to Wok Box afterwards and cozying up to a movie that evening was a good memory too.  There was also the day we were so hot that we took off all our clothes and cuddled up with ice cream bars to Spirited Away.  But perhaps that was the same day—it’s been far too long now.

Summer drew a close to our blossoming romance, and intensified my feelings of loneliness and insecurity.


Towards the end of summer, you were constantly on my mind.  So much so that I tried to get back in touch with you, and succeeded towards the end of July and beginning of August.  This was my first season without you.  I have no memories to cherish, only memories of feeling scorned and broken.

I was strong though.  I felt good about who I was, and what I had to offer you.  I tried really hard to be the person I should have been all along.  I wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, but you lead me to believe that I wasn’t good enough either.  There’s a fine line.

Autumn saw me through new colours of wisdom and actualization.  I shed my inhibitions so that I could see myself through offering  you everything I could, to no avail.


Autumn left me barren and desolate.  I’d tried everything, and had at last succumbed to anticipating your fleeting messages every couple of months.  I saw and heard less and less of you.  These cold lonely nights were a stark contrast to the first months that we’d shared when we first met.

The end of January is the last I’ve heard from you.  You contacted me on a day I was at an all time emotional low.  I’d been thinking of you all day.  It felt like karma was on my side once again, and that almost a year after we had started dating, you’d realized that you still loved me.  But you didn’t.  You were honest with me though.  You gave me truths that I needed to hear.

Winter closed with a new and faint warmth burning in my heart.  Days that I physically mourned you grew far more sparse, and I began allowing myself to enjoy the things that make me happy.


Much like the indecisive season of spring we had experienced this year, my temperament has ranged from content to defeated.  I’ve been hot and cold.   Last spring, as much as I love the time I spent with you, my memories do recall losses and growing apart.  This season has been filled with sadness and song, and I am encouraged and discouraged by my reality on the daily.

June 20th will be one year since you have left me.  I remember the day as though it were only yesterday.  I spent the morning anticipating getting to see you.  We had a dinner date that night, after you finished at work and the gym.  I got my hair cut and looked especially charming for our rendezvous.   And yet, the car ride was awkward.  The dinner was awkward.  And upon confronting you when we got back to my place my world came crashing down.

This spring brought hope of new enlightenment.  I have new ambitions and new dreams to fulfill.


I still think of you often.  Even more so as June 20th draws near.  I miss you, and it saddens me to realize how much time we’ve been apart.  I’ve now seen myself through four seasons of heartbreak.  I have experienced four seasons of change and growth without you.  And though I have still not forgotten you, perhaps this season of heartbreak will teach me that forgetting you is something I ought to never try anyways.  I will keep you dear to me, and not feel distressed or sad because of it.  I will keep you in my heart as I change and as I grow, because until I find new seasons of love, you will be and always have been my motivation to be me.

Tunnel Vision

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Whether or not it is within sight is irrelevant–it’s just there. It’s a tunnel, and all tunnels come to an end.

The tunnel is long.  It is dank and suffocating.  It echoes the feelings I thought had come to pass, and is relentless in doing so.  There’s no escaping.  Not until I’ve found the proverbial light.

Amidst the noise of my heavy heart, I grasp desperately at the walls for any exit, any premature escape from my self-stencilled Hell.  It is dark though, unless maybe the darkness is all I can see.  Maybe my peripherals are failing me.  Maybe there is something I am missing in this tunnel–this winding, cavernous, objectified state of affairs.

Maybe I’m not in a tunnel at all.

Yet I’ve come to see that, within myself, in this very moment, I am on a set course.  I see only one motive of circumstance in my life; I follow it blindly, aimlessly, yet distinctly.  Everything else is a fog of deceit.

The life I am leading–no, the life I am following–is one that has been predetermined.  I have adjusted my destination to be the result of neurotic discourse.  I have tempted fate to find answers for me.  I have abandoned my aspirations in favour of my aspirations for another.

My life has become a tunnel.  I am blind to my reality, I am short of my expectations.  I am in pursuit of something that has become my only viable option–my only light.

My tunnel has exhausted me.  All has been for naught.  Every feeling, every notion, every dream was but to be expended on another’s freedom from their own bindings.

And I have spent many days resentful of the fact that I have aided someone who has hurt me in escaping from their tunnel; finding their light.  But perhaps I did no such thing.  Perhaps I was their light.