This post goes out to my single friends. Also, I think if we switch some words around a bit, it could quite easily apply to my professional life as well.
Whenever a door closes, another one (or a window) opens. Variations of such. It just wasn’t meant to be. Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. You’re so much better off without him, her, them, it. Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.
Fake it till you make it.
A lot of people say a lot of things about love. Some say it is an illusion, or that there are different levels unseen to the human eye, and each has its own different set of rules. Some also say that it is foolish to give love without receiving it in return, instead going about it in increments, until the person to whom you are giving your heart matches your bet and then raises to the next level. That is the logical economical way of going about loving people, like it’s a casino game.
But in my life, I’ve come to realize a curse I seem to have that’s maybe not a curse at all. I seem to always be giving my heart to people who either don’t really want all of it, want it only some of the time, or change their minds and try to return it later. Or, I’ll want to give it but when I go to look for it, it’s gone and I can’t seem to remeber who I loaned it to that hasn’t yet given it back. Life is funny that way. Great minds are always quoting about how you can choose everything. But there are a lot of things that I find myself doing that I didn’t choose. Holding onto things that my mind doesn’t want anymore, or fighting against feelings that I can’t explain, I don’t know where they come from.
I like to think of myself as an independant force, completely in control of my own actions. But sometimes I have to wonder who is really pulling the strings. Because I know it’s not me. Or is it just a different version? In times like these, I find that I enter a semi-liquid state. No longer a rock, my feelings change drastically and daily, and I often don’t know which way is up. But I pretend I do, because showing my fear and asking for help would be totally unacceptable. So I freeze or I boil, depending on the day. But on the outside, I’m jello. I bounce back from everything that happens to me (or it looks like I do) and wiggle in a cheery way so that no one gets down by being around me. (I actually really do this, in case you’ve never seen it.) I smile and laugh and sometimes I think am actually a more likeable person when I’m secretly miserable.
Sometimes, I’m proud of my ability to so convincingly fake it until I make it. But I have to wonder, what happens when I do make it, but can’t stop faking?