but you can’t.
So the next question is am I even happy now?
Of course, I am.
Am I content?
No, I’m not.
Much like everybody else, I want more. More for myself, more for my daughter, more from life. It’s innate. Not to be content. Just look at what we have accomplished in history. We yearn to exceed our limits and surpass obstacles. This is what we live for. Sometimes, I think we are all naturally masochistic. It is only when we are nearly beaten, nearly dead, barely gasping for air, when we find this iron will to fight back and emerge victorious.
It makes me wonder if we subconsciously put ourselves in a spot just to test how far we can go.
Yet, in spite of all our struggles, most of us just crave for simple things. Things that you can easily acquire. Food, love, family, a home, friends, a vacation, some praise, some appreciation. Once you can get hold of those, we would get antsy and begin the cycle again of being discontent of what we have. Or it’s not really discontent but much like of a hobby, it would seem that your collection is still not complete even after years of searching for that one special item.
I think I am weird for thinking about this however, it still bugs me that over the things I have regretted in my life, I still can’t do a single thing to at least have a closure to my past. My cowardice could simply be a manifestation of my masochistic behavior. I actually want to suffer and wallow in it more. Or this over analysis is my excuse to once again apologize for not saying those things I want to say.