By all appearances, I have a great life at this moment. My husband and I – we have respectable jobs, we have adequate money, we own a house and cars and fancy electronics. We live in a beautiful seaside town. We travel a bit, and go out to eat all the time, and go to bars with our friends every weekend. Last night we played kickball, and today we’re having massages, and this weekend we’re staying at a bed and breakfast in Maine, and in a couple of weeks we’re going to a concert in Boston. Next year we get to live overseas and see a whole hemisphere I’ve never been to before.
I am living the life that I was afraid of giving up. In the moment, you know, I do enjoy myself almost like a normal person, and I do appreciate the things I get to do and have. But upon reflection, there’s a hollowness that I can’t get past. I have everything I ought to want – except for the only thing that seems to matter.
I keep trying to re-prioritize. To dwell in the moment. To focus on what I have instead of what I don’t. To convince myself into contentedness. It’s something I’ll need to keep working on.