Self-actualization and self-understanding become more and more difficult to tackle as I get closer to what I thought they were. I wonder how much of our relationships are based on how other people feel about us. And what is to separate, "I love you because you love me," from, "I love you because you treat me well," from, "I love you because you are a person that I love." Unable to see the motivations for our feelings, can we be sure that the person that is feeling them is the person we thought we were at all?
When did I become so rational and ready to categorize everything? Especially feeling? Didn't I used to be one to feel first and ask questions later?
But there is something in me lately, akin to exhaustion. I don't even feel like talking anymore. Conversation: boring. Then what am I, if not conversation and emotion and words? I find that the more time that passes, the less I care about anything, and that concerns me. As if, in all this striving for answers, I've hit a hopeless and questionless plateau.
But that can't be right either. Because look at all of those question marks up there. Maybe it is more that the answers I am finding are just more questions. That I am seeing there is no end but ending. That I have been so excited to see what comes next, returning to the beginning might be too heartbreaking to bear.
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