It’s as though I’m always looking past my life, straining to see something better, easier, or more exciting just around the corner. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just be present in my life as it is happening?
I always figured the fear of missing out that haunted my adolescence and early adulthood would dissipate once I chose a path. Now, I have a career, a husband, children. Yet still, I find myself fighting against the mundanity of my everyday existence. Looking for a way out.
Not everyday, but somedays. Somedays I want to rip everything to shreds and start over.
But I don’t.
Because I don’t know if I am truly not happy with my life. Or if I’m just sick in the head. Or if this sense of longing for something else is just an inherent part of the human condition: to wonder, to strain, to look forward past the known to the unknown.