Life: Imperfect.

My brain has been twisting and turning in the last month, trying to cope with changes in my life.

I have come to terms with the fact that changes will happen. Some changes I pursue, and I prepare myself for. Some changes are a bit a lot more unexpected, and so are a little harder to understand and accept. Change is good, sometimes. Other times it is the only option; so I can let myself get down and be unhappy, or I can accept the fact that every experience I’ve had in my life, good or bad, makes me a stronger person.

With change comes imperfection. Being a Virgo, imperfection is extremely hard and scary to cope with. I had this plan of what my life would be like by the time I’m 30. The blueprint was created in my mind, step by step, brick by brick: all placed in the right spot, building a proper foundation. They were the perfect dreams of the naive me. A perfect life that doesn’t exist, because life is never perfect. You can work as hard as you can, and give as much of yourself as you have in you to give, and you may create a life that comes close to your ideal; honestly, it’s more likely you changing your ideals in order to fit this imperfect life, so that you can justify your actions and say “yes, I am living life the way I want to.” Are you really?

Am I 100% happy? That is a question that is hard to answer. I can honestly think of times in the past week where I could say, yes, I was 100% happy with myself, with my life, and the people in my life. But I could not say that I was 100% happy, 100% of the time. Happiness is hard to measure overall, because it is not a lasting feeling. Even the happiest person in the world will have moments in their lives when they’re not fully happy because that’s not how life is. Life is full of up and downs, and happiness fluctuates along with those movements. Overall I can say I’m happy, but I’m smart I’m delusional I’m courageous enough to admit there’s always room for improvement.

Back to change and imperfection. I am starting to realize that I was wrong to assume the first 25 years of your life shape who you are for the rest of it. Only a few years after, I realize that the experiences in my life and the people who come in and the people who go out of it, still continue to influence me. I lost a big part of the person that I was a few years back, and I continue to see this person I’ve become evolving into someone else. Moving in all kinds of different directions (sometimes trying to do them all at once). Growing apart from someone who I loved. Becoming more self involved, self-righteous. Growing, and finding myself confused on which path in life to take, like a lost teenager that can’t figure out his future.

I can’t fully figure out my future; I have a general idea of the things I want to accomplish in the years to come, but can no longer see the exact steps to take. Can’t figure out which bricks to lay where, nor when. Nor how.

And changes I can’t control keep making it all the more difficult to know which step to take: family, friends. The loss of certain feelings and the creation of other emotions, that are unattainable. Love and loss. Loss and love. And loss again. So many paths to take, and I find myself walking down the paths that I know won’t lead to a happy ending. Been down similar paths before and I am well aware of how it all ends. It ends with me being hurt, but I can’t help but pursue those paths over and over again.

But such is life: imperfect. And the scars I get along the way will continue to create the amazing, unique me that I’ll be in the future. And maybe then I’ll realize that I wouldn’t have had my life any other way. Making the wrong decisions, taking the wrong steps. Traveling and meeting people. Making and losing friends and lovers. Loving, laughing, hurting, crying.

Enjoying life, and it’s imperfection.

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