This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Head on Your Pillow

Why is it that late at night, around the 1:37am time range, we come up with the most insightful witty things the world has ever heard?


Last night was one of those nights. I was having one of those, "I'm-so-old-I-have-no-idea-what-my-career-will-be-I'm-so-fucking-screwed-what-have-I-done-with-my-life???" kind of moments. I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, sobbing hysterically, talking to myself about absolute nonsense.

However, I did have a few moments of insight I wish I had documented. I woke up today thinking, "Damn, what was it I said last night?" And finally remembered during my bus ride into campus. I remembered the analogy I thought was utterly brilliant last night. To be fair, brilliance at 1am is pretty close to toked revelations when you're tired enough.

Life is like one of those plastic boxes with the different spots for shapes.
Now hear me out before you dismiss me as an insane, egotistical writer-type (which, albeit, I am)!

So I was sitting on my bed, thinking about my life the past five years or so. Obviously, since it was late and I was tired, my mind went straight for the negatives. I thought about how when my mom died, there suddenly was this large, gaping hole in my life, a hole I struggled to fill. For my senior year of high school, I filled it with taking care of my brother, sister, and dad.

When I got to college though, my dad remarried and that job was now over to a certain extent. My freshman year I filled that whole with budding friendships and the excitement that is going to college. The beginning of my sophomore year, I filled it with being a part of a sorority. This more than anything took up a large portion of my life.

My junior year, relationships filled that void: two consecutive failed ones. They worked for the moment being, but I feel in love twice, hard, and fell out of love with a struggle when they ended. This year, specifically this semester, I've lacked something with which to fill this void.

The worst part is, none of these things in the past have actually filled that emptiness and given me the happiness for which I've been searching. They've all been stars and circles and triangles sitting on top of a hole meant for a square. The only thing that came close to filling this was my time while in Ireland.

The longer I'm away from Cork, the more I realize how happy I was there. Sure, you can romanticize something with distance and a large passage of time, but that's not the case here. There I felt this sense of content and freedom and bliss I've never experienced before. Not every day though was a giant adventure; rather, it was the simplicity of my life across the ocean.

I miss Ireland, every single day, but know if I go back it wouldn't be the same. Nothing can ever replicate my time there, who me and my friends were when we lived together, etc. Nothing can replicate how I felt about a certain someone when I was there, either; it was a moment in my past now. But Cork, Ireland came so close, so fucking close to being my square.

I wonder what will give me that sense of peace ultimately and when I'll find whatever I seem to be searching so earnestly for and how I could find something of such nature. How? How can I ever fill the emptiness left behind by the loss of my mother? I talk to myself frequently, asking of myself the same question.

Moreover, why can I never seem to find contentedness? So many circles and squares and triangles and slightly off-centered rhombuses. But no square yet. No one consistently at my side, day in day out, there for me always no matter what (beyond family). At least, no one here in Iowa City in that case. And that realization can be a lonely one.

I don't mean to say it's a saddening and completely horrible realization, but a sobering one nonetheless. And lonely, too. People come and go in your life, friends, close friends, and significant others. With all the loss we all go through it's no wonder we lack a sense of trust toward the people around us.

Yet we still trust, still put our faith in people, still search for the good in others. Why? Because we know that someday we'll find that stability with friends and lovers and family. Someday it won't feel like such an uphill battle.

We're all searching, in a sense, for someone to make all that searching for stability seem worthwhile. I guess everyone is looking for their square.

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