I’ve been thinking…it’s that time of life again, when thinking is the best what one can do for the best of it…I’ve been thinking about how I feel slightly behind with my life nowadays. Not that I’m late everywhere, I just mean – I feel being left out of something that I was supposed to be with. I’ve mentioned already the Russian version of the facebook and how I’ve found long lost classmates there…there are lots of jokes about such “connecting” sites and most of them are true, of course – people do tend to use it for all the wrong reasons. However, for me it served exactly what it promised. It re-connected me with the past. So anyway…one of those classmates from the past described her life since we lost the track of each other in the following words: “I didn’t get too far carrier-wise, but I’ve got a family and my life is okay”…
I contemplated on this thought for a while…what constitutes the “okay life”? Is it the way how we feel about it? When we are at peace even when we’ve got more of some things and less of others? Or do we need a perfect balance to say that life is “okay”?
I thought with a slight bitterness that if I were to say this, it would’ve been “I’m okay with what I have become, but I haven’t got a family anymore”…No, I do not feel that my life is okay. This has nothing to do with loosing husband. This is more about that disturbing feeling that something has been missing in my life…maybe even for whole of my life…When I read somebody tells how they feel being loved, I cannot find the same emotions in my memory. I know everyone loves and feels loved differently, yet somehow there is a pattern of general things everybody experience when loved.
I never questioned if I’m being loved. I knew I loved and I did it as best as I could. Maybe it wasn’t enough, who knows. And maybe it simply wasn’t enough for him. But I knew his shortcomings and I knew others might’ve been more romantic, more caring, more close. I just thought this is love – when you know each other’s faults and still want to be with them “till the end” Maybe I don’t know anything about real love after all.
It suddenly occurred to me what if that’s true? What if he never loved me? How can you tell? Some say: you’d feel it. Perhaps, this is the wrong time to recall forgotten past because no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember…that doesn’t mean I was unhappy. Strange as it is, but happiness for me wasn’t about expecting from other to make me happy. I still am true to this belief. Nobody owns happiness to no one. One can choose to make another happy. I assume this would be when they love. So I’ve been thinking now…I obviously didn’t make him happy, at least in the last years, since he went out looking for another choice…did I love him enough? Somehow it feels that I don’t really know how to love someone. How sad it is to realise this when half of your life has been spent already…
I'm not particular a happy bunny these days. I do not blame me for not doing something or doing something wrong, no, I'm way past this phase of separation...it's just not as much as feeling of loosing something, but the feeling of never having it...
I contemplated on this thought for a while…what constitutes the “okay life”? Is it the way how we feel about it? When we are at peace even when we’ve got more of some things and less of others? Or do we need a perfect balance to say that life is “okay”?
I thought with a slight bitterness that if I were to say this, it would’ve been “I’m okay with what I have become, but I haven’t got a family anymore”…No, I do not feel that my life is okay. This has nothing to do with loosing husband. This is more about that disturbing feeling that something has been missing in my life…maybe even for whole of my life…When I read somebody tells how they feel being loved, I cannot find the same emotions in my memory. I know everyone loves and feels loved differently, yet somehow there is a pattern of general things everybody experience when loved.
I never questioned if I’m being loved. I knew I loved and I did it as best as I could. Maybe it wasn’t enough, who knows. And maybe it simply wasn’t enough for him. But I knew his shortcomings and I knew others might’ve been more romantic, more caring, more close. I just thought this is love – when you know each other’s faults and still want to be with them “till the end” Maybe I don’t know anything about real love after all.
It suddenly occurred to me what if that’s true? What if he never loved me? How can you tell? Some say: you’d feel it. Perhaps, this is the wrong time to recall forgotten past because no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember…that doesn’t mean I was unhappy. Strange as it is, but happiness for me wasn’t about expecting from other to make me happy. I still am true to this belief. Nobody owns happiness to no one. One can choose to make another happy. I assume this would be when they love. So I’ve been thinking now…I obviously didn’t make him happy, at least in the last years, since he went out looking for another choice…did I love him enough? Somehow it feels that I don’t really know how to love someone. How sad it is to realise this when half of your life has been spent already…
I'm not particular a happy bunny these days. I do not blame me for not doing something or doing something wrong, no, I'm way past this phase of separation...it's just not as much as feeling of loosing something, but the feeling of never having it...