Cry.

“And I’ll fall on my knees
Tell me how’s the way to go
Tell me how’s the way to be
To evoke some empathy”
“Everywhere I Go” – Lissie

I seem to only write when things are not so great. I think I do that because writing is cathartic for me. Most others I know cry. I wish I could. I haven’t really cried in years. Maybe 10 or more. I will tear up, but the faucet hasn’t been wide open in a very long time. I promise you I have wanted to, more than you could ever guess. I think if I could, if I could really cry and just release some of the frustration and ache that builds up inside then maybe you wouldn’t be reading this.

Don’t get me wrong – I am so grateful for what I have, and given the opportunity, there are very few things I would change about my life up to this point. But as I spend more time with me (and God knows I spend a hell of a lot of time with myself, not always by choice), I have been forced to truly examine some beliefs I have held about myself. And to my surprise, some of what I am finding does not coincide with what I have been telling myself all these years. I’ve taken off my rose-colored glasses and sometimes what I see is stark and not so rosy after all. I think that this is something we all do at some point in our lives. I just happen to be at that point right now.

I’ve always been proud of my patience. My ability to be patient with people and situations has allowed me to keep a cool head (most of the time) and to help people understand things in a way that others have not. But the truth is, as patient as I am with others, I am incredibly impatient with my life. I can sit down with someone and work through a problem that has frustrated them. I can explain things in a way that makes sense to them and I can do this for as long as it takes. I can listen in silence for hours to someone who just needs to empty the overflowing frustration they feel, then offer a solution or guidance without trying to hurry things along. But when it comes to MY life, I have no patience at all. I don’t understand why things can’t happen as quickly as I want them to and I absolutely cannot sit around and wait. When I want something, I want it now and I don’t want to wait. And this is at a time when the advice I give others is to practice patience, and that what is supposed to happen will, eventually, happen. Unfortunately, I can’t follow my own advice. I find myself forcing situations and expecting outcomes simply for the fact that I want them that way. I should have realized this long ago – especially since I am not above reading the end of a book first – to see if it will be worth my time to sit and read it. I am not content to let my life unfold slowly before me, just like I’m unwilling to read a book that I don’t like the ending of.

Another bone of contention has been my tenacity. Not letting go is good sometimes. It means that I don’t give up easily, but it also means that sometimes I hold on far too long. Its good when it comes to work; I don’t’ give up when trying to solve a problem or make something happen for someone. And it’s great when I’m working out; I have rarely ever given up on a workout, regardless of how hard it was or how much it hurt. But it’s not so good sometimes when it comes to personal relationships. I don’t accept no – even when I should. I have trouble leaving things that are not meant for me when I believe they should be and I have even more trouble moving on, even when I know I should. Just like patience, I have trouble accepting that I can’t have what I want and that it may not be meant for me.

But the one thing I have realized about myself is that with that tenacity, comes hope. And that my ability to always have hope, is one thing that I know about myself to be true. That regardless of what happens, I always maintain hope that it will be what’s best; that whatever it is, is meant to be good for me, and that maybe, just maybe this time, it will be what I wanted.

And I am finally realizing that for all my bravado, and despite the façade I present others, I am sadly afraid. Afraid that all the things in life that I assure others will come their way, are not meant for me. That my time is running short and that some of those things I so desperately want, are out of my reach. I have started to come to terms with some of them. Others will be harder to accept, but my ability to not give up means I have hope. Hope that I am wrong about some of it, and hope that some of those beautiful things in life truly are meant for me. Or maybe I just need to cry. For a very long time.

Danger will follow me
Everywhere I go
Angels will call on me
And take me to my home
Well this tired mind just wants to be led home