Existentialists say that we create meaning in life; that the meaning anything or anyone has is the meaning we have assigned to them. Does that mean that anytime we find something meaningless it is an instance of our own failure to find/assign/appreciate meaning.
I hope to find meaning in everything, even if it is small and inconsequential meaning like merely appreciating a moment in life that can never be lived again.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Thursday, December 18, 2008
blind date
I finally went on the blind date that a co-worker set me up on this past weekend. And...surprisingly...it went very well. The attraction seemed mutual and we both enjoyed each other's company.
But you know how I am. Part of me wants to be giddy and share every detail, but--simply put--I'm scared. He seems really great and definitely gentlemanly. A little odd, but in the refreshing way that fits my own quirkiness. I know this is getting a little ahead of myself, but I'm scared of falling for him and I'm scared of what might happen if things did lead to love.
This last guy I talked about made me feel special, too. I know I tried to overlook some of the things he did, like how he seemed to ignore or forget that certain things made me extremely uncomfortable. And look now, he disappears because I wouldn't give him my address. Weird? I can't forget B either. I was with him and while I can't say that he ever really mistreated me, there were flaws and disagreements that I now know I compromised on or pushed aside. How do I know this guy isn't going to be some joke as well or that I won't make the same dire compromises and mistakes again?
When we were lying in bed (clothed...he didn't get that lucky) he commented that my guard was up and he could tell because he has done that himself. It comes off as quite the line, but I wonder if it's true. I didn't tell him that he was right. Now I wonder if he'll sincerely care enough to take the time to get past my guard.
I kind of hope he does...
But you know how I am. Part of me wants to be giddy and share every detail, but--simply put--I'm scared. He seems really great and definitely gentlemanly. A little odd, but in the refreshing way that fits my own quirkiness. I know this is getting a little ahead of myself, but I'm scared of falling for him and I'm scared of what might happen if things did lead to love.
This last guy I talked about made me feel special, too. I know I tried to overlook some of the things he did, like how he seemed to ignore or forget that certain things made me extremely uncomfortable. And look now, he disappears because I wouldn't give him my address. Weird? I can't forget B either. I was with him and while I can't say that he ever really mistreated me, there were flaws and disagreements that I now know I compromised on or pushed aside. How do I know this guy isn't going to be some joke as well or that I won't make the same dire compromises and mistakes again?
When we were lying in bed (clothed...he didn't get that lucky) he commented that my guard was up and he could tell because he has done that himself. It comes off as quite the line, but I wonder if it's true. I didn't tell him that he was right. Now I wonder if he'll sincerely care enough to take the time to get past my guard.
I kind of hope he does...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
since i've been gone
It's been over a year, can you tell I'm horrible at this?
So the most obvious change is that the boyfriend is gone. One day he was on the verge of finally telling me he loved, and the next he decided it was over. Surprisingly, I've come to accept it rather well now. It's interesting how I've realized how much I lied to myself about our relationship, though my no means am I saying it wasn't good for what it was. I just always vowed to myself that I wouldn't settle, but that's what I was doing. Every relationship requires compromise and sacrifice, that I know, but here I was making excuses for a guy who after a year and a half couldn't even tell me how he felt--I loved him dearly but perhaps I compromised my true self away.
It's funny though. I actually thought I might have met someone new. Unfortunately, it looks like he's gone now too and I'm not really sure why. Sometimes I think I really might be too far gone to be of any good to someone now...too far damaged, too many quirks. Though I honestly think I have a lot to offer. Nothing terribly spectacular, but it's all I have. Maybe the time and patience I need to trust are too much, and that just brings us back to point A of being too damaged.
He was very intriguing though, by no means perfect but I liked that. I thought he might actually be willing to wait for me to work through my quirks, but I guess they were to much for him too. I just don't know...
So the most obvious change is that the boyfriend is gone. One day he was on the verge of finally telling me he loved, and the next he decided it was over. Surprisingly, I've come to accept it rather well now. It's interesting how I've realized how much I lied to myself about our relationship, though my no means am I saying it wasn't good for what it was. I just always vowed to myself that I wouldn't settle, but that's what I was doing. Every relationship requires compromise and sacrifice, that I know, but here I was making excuses for a guy who after a year and a half couldn't even tell me how he felt--I loved him dearly but perhaps I compromised my true self away.
It's funny though. I actually thought I might have met someone new. Unfortunately, it looks like he's gone now too and I'm not really sure why. Sometimes I think I really might be too far gone to be of any good to someone now...too far damaged, too many quirks. Though I honestly think I have a lot to offer. Nothing terribly spectacular, but it's all I have. Maybe the time and patience I need to trust are too much, and that just brings us back to point A of being too damaged.
He was very intriguing though, by no means perfect but I liked that. I thought he might actually be willing to wait for me to work through my quirks, but I guess they were to much for him too. I just don't know...
Thursday, September 20, 2007
going crazy
Sometimes I honestly wonder if I'm going crazy. Knowing that the people I care about are happy and to know that they are pleased with me is sometimes the only way I know how to be happy.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
burdens
Ever feel like you're just a burden to others? I do.
It's not like people tell me that I am so. But I can't help but to feel like I bother people too much. It's just that I don't get close to many people, so the few friends that I am close to are naturally the people I talk to and try to make plans with. So, I find myself becoming concerned that since I'm always spending time with only a few different people that perhaps they might become tired of me. Yet, it maybe that I only make this problem worse by the fact that it's so nerve-wracking to ask people out because I don't want to make too many demands or requests on their time. However, when I know that friends are going out I generally find it so difficult to ask if I can join because I was raised to never invite oneself but rather to wait for an invitation. Isn't that the way it goes or did I take that lesson too far?
Then again, could these insecurities and notions of etiquette be the real reasons? I guess at times these quirks make me seem aloof or un-caring, or whatever it may be. Though, the truth is that I do like people, especially making people happy. And maybe it's that desire to please and not to disappoint others that has brought me to this odd point of being concerned that my presence may be a burden and a point of unhappiness for others. Or could that truly be the case?
I think I think too much.
It's not like people tell me that I am so. But I can't help but to feel like I bother people too much. It's just that I don't get close to many people, so the few friends that I am close to are naturally the people I talk to and try to make plans with. So, I find myself becoming concerned that since I'm always spending time with only a few different people that perhaps they might become tired of me. Yet, it maybe that I only make this problem worse by the fact that it's so nerve-wracking to ask people out because I don't want to make too many demands or requests on their time. However, when I know that friends are going out I generally find it so difficult to ask if I can join because I was raised to never invite oneself but rather to wait for an invitation. Isn't that the way it goes or did I take that lesson too far?
Then again, could these insecurities and notions of etiquette be the real reasons? I guess at times these quirks make me seem aloof or un-caring, or whatever it may be. Though, the truth is that I do like people, especially making people happy. And maybe it's that desire to please and not to disappoint others that has brought me to this odd point of being concerned that my presence may be a burden and a point of unhappiness for others. Or could that truly be the case?
I think I think too much.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
the 4 letter word and the 3 word phrase
Love.
I love you.
Why is it that a word and a phrase that can give so much pleasure can also cause so much fear and anxiety? How can 'love' be the most overly discussed topic and yet still have so much relevance and emotion attached to it? How can 'I love you' at times be a mundane and lackluster phrase but also be so increibly powerful that it can bring tears to the eyes of both the speaker and the receiver?
There are hundreds upon hundreds of websites offering advice on how, if, and when one should tell someone they love them (at least in the romantic sense). If one's feelings are true then shouldn't their expression come rather naturally? That's not to say that voicing those feelings should or would be easy.
I suppose the thing that makes love and loving so confusing is the presence of many different forms of love and how they become convoluted. There's the love between parent and child, siblings, friends, and romantic lovers. But for the purposes of my ramblings I shall be mainly pondering romantic love...
To Be Continued
P.S. It took four sittings to write this one post, ironic?
I love you.
Why is it that a word and a phrase that can give so much pleasure can also cause so much fear and anxiety? How can 'love' be the most overly discussed topic and yet still have so much relevance and emotion attached to it? How can 'I love you' at times be a mundane and lackluster phrase but also be so increibly powerful that it can bring tears to the eyes of both the speaker and the receiver?
There are hundreds upon hundreds of websites offering advice on how, if, and when one should tell someone they love them (at least in the romantic sense). If one's feelings are true then shouldn't their expression come rather naturally? That's not to say that voicing those feelings should or would be easy.
I suppose the thing that makes love and loving so confusing is the presence of many different forms of love and how they become convoluted. There's the love between parent and child, siblings, friends, and romantic lovers. But for the purposes of my ramblings I shall be mainly pondering romantic love...
To Be Continued
P.S. It took four sittings to write this one post, ironic?
Saturday, April 14, 2007
too good to be true?
Such an old adage, but is it true? I won't deny that it can be a very useful saying when it comes to things like creepy car salesmen or the abundance of infomercials promising that their product will change your life. But if we always live by such a saying then we risk the chance of passing up the good because we think it's "too good to be true." Can't I just enjoy something good without having to worry that this old cliche will come to fruition?
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