This time

This time last year,
I thought I knew exactly what I wanted.

My mind was on fire, making up scenarios of all the places I could end up in, if only I’d have that one thing I desperately longed for.

I prayed, and cried, and hurt myself trying to get hold of it.

I threw countless tantrums with every lost chance I couldn’t wrap my mind around.

It was unfair how life would keep opening its arms with possibilities I never asked for,
And when I’d reach out and try to make use of even one of them, I’d flinch at how rapidly it gets pulled away.

Who does that, and why would they? I had no idea.

I was still determined to try again though, because what if all this was only meant to test how badly I want it?

What if I just had to prove I’m serious enough about it?

I rolled up my sleeves; Challenge Accepted!

I was going to prove I’m worthy of it.
I was going to prove there’s no one else who could do it better.
I was going to prove so many things that no one even asked of me.

And I hurt myself so bad in the process.

I’d watch myself bleed and I wouldn’t even think I deserved a bandaid.
I’d trip on every step along the way, break my leg over and over, feel my body shutting down, my lungs gasping for air, yet never pause to allow myself a single breath.

And I had to completely lose myself, before I realized that somewhere, along the way, I had stopped wanting it altogether.

I got so used to fighting for it, that I couldn’t tell who I am beyond my obsession with proving1 I was meant for it.

And while I still don’t know it,

This time, next year,
I’m going to be writing yet another piece
About that other thing, I now wholeheartedly believe, is all I need to be exactly where I want to be.

Will I ever learn my lesson?