Something’s missing, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I’m not alone. I wish I was…because then I’d know I was down because I couldn’t find a friend around, to love me like they do right now.
Last fall, I took a writing course, with the full intention of starting a book project, characterizing the mid-twenties slump that more and more twenty-somethings have been experiencing. Soon thereafter, work picked up at break-neck speed, and I rode those coat-tails for as long as I possibly could.
Alas, it’s with a heavy heart I must report, mostly to myself, that it’s time to hop off the roller coaster and exit the park. I don’t even like roller coasters…well, not real ones, anyway. Figurative ones are OK…except when they lead to ambiguity, uncertainty, and the ever-dreaded disillusionment.
Something’s missing…and I don’t know what it is.
This was the precise struggle I was faced with a few months ago. I got derailed, and now I’m back.
Friends….check.
Money….check.
Well-slept…check.
Opposite sex….well, not quite, but that’s quite alright.
Guitar…an equivalent, so check.
Microphone…likewise, another check.
Messages waiting on me when I come home….close enough.
So, where’s the hopeless discontent coming from? It’s so much harder to fix a problem that you know exists, but can’t articulate or pin point.
Acknowledgement is the first step, right? So, what’s the second?
