I haven't write in awhile, and I think it's both good and bad. It's good, because finally at a point after a really long time, I feel enough. I feel like I got what I deserve and it's all, I prematurely think is enough.
I got the kind of love that I wanted; a love that doesn't make you feel that they completed you, that you did not lack of any single thing before you two met. that the simplicity is the new elegance, and you just need someone to share the same perspective, to enjoy it together, and you both want it to be a very, very long time.
I got the kind of career that I wanted; though I still stumble now and then, here and there, I got people who, though as tired as I am, are strong enough to get me back up again. people who are the most humble to trust such huge responsibility on these tiny fragile shoulders, knowing deep down I am capable enough.
It's bad because it makes me settle down for the present time too comfortably. I don't wander far toward the future anymore, sometime letting go of the past too. I wanted to concentrate to what's happening today, and rest until I have to worry about tomorrow, until tomorrow becomes today, on repeat. But then I realized, that THAT, as much as the all the wandering and wondering, is a viscous cycle.
I have lived for 27 years long, and I haven't quite figure out how much portion of the past, present and future to hold onto to be able to feel okay, to feel enough, to feel complete without actually being complete. I haven't quite figure how to juggle these three in sync. I was either gripping too hard on the past I let it left its messy shape on my palms, holding onto the present for way too long that the other two started rolling away, misled in directions, or staring up to the future, not realizing it's gonna hit you on your face anytime soon, that it's closer than you think.
sometime, in between the earth and the sky I'd ask to Him in whispers, "are you waiting for me to be ready? will I ever be ready? is completeness and feeling enough actually nonexistent?"
I'm not sad nor I am happy, but let me tell you that it's the worst feeling ever. I'm tired, but I've slept for so long and it's still not enough. But what is enough again? I'm in between. Of everything. Of every time frame. Of every feeling. It's grey. Everything's grey. But it feels so, so, so blue.
