Point of it all

What is the point of it all when it comes to it? What is the purpose of life? The meaning of it? Why are we here? What is it we are meant to do?

Those questions are as old as humanity, and yet, we've not found the answer to it. Some people seem to have found an answer, seem to have found that purpose, that meaning with it all. And yet, they can't tell you what it is, they can't give you the answer. It's an answer only you can find.

Isn't it frustrating? I find it so. I sit here and think that there must be more to it all. That there must be more meaning to my life than trying to get a job, trying to support myself and taking care of my daughter.

Yeah, of course, raising a child is important. But I am more than that. I am more than a mother. I just don't know what. I don't know what that more is I'm looking for.

For I'm looking. I'm searching for that meaning with life. That thing that makes the difference to me. The thing that'll make me jump out of bed in the morning and think that this is a wonderful day and that it's important and I have things to do that has meaning and purpose and reason.

I don't know where to find it. My inner self seems like a murky place where light can't penetrate, where there's no signs showing me the way.

There must be more to things. There just must be. If not, it's all way too depressive.

I need more.

Afterthought

Sitting here with a feeling. Strange thoughts overcoming me, going through my brain but not really registering. What is this when it comes to it?

What happened that made this day different from the other days, what was it that changed the energy around me, something new, and yet so old. Returning to old haunts, but in a new way.

Is this what would be called to break free and let go of the past? Or is it merely a natural step that had to happen no matter what? Is it accepting that some things will never happen and it is time to move on?

I don't know, it's impossible to tell. Logically it feels right. But my heart broke, or perhaps I just poured more salt into that wound. The wound of impossibilities and dreams, of what can never be, of a hope that is lost.

Am I a fool or am I wise?

It's not possible to say, is it? Only time will tell. And even when you wait out the time, you can never know what would have happened had things been done differently, if something else had been the case, another step taken, a new location.

But I will never know. I will never know if I did things in foolishness or right.

Ah, the wonderful curse of life. We do never truly know what is right or wrong. Not when it comes to reaching our dreams and finding them.

My thoughts are of you, they will always be. My heart is with you, it always will be. But I think the pain is less now. At least for today. We can't predict tomorrow after all.

Did the dream disappear?

Last night

I had a dream last night.
Where I saw you walk away. Leaving me and distancing yourself.

I had a dream last night.
Where I saw you turn around and look away. Letting go of what we had.

I had a dream last night.
Where I lost your closeness. Saying goodbye to my dream of you.