Love, I always believed it was the meaning of life. Are we here to simply wake up each day in routine or have we been programed to live this way? There is no thrill in living a ground hog day. Since December I’ve questioned often, why am I here? Is there a point to it all? Somewhat detached, I crave nourishment, love and excitement again.
Undoubtedly my new impression on life comes from feeling lonely. Fortunate to have always been surrounded with my love, family and friends. What I previously understood loneliness to be was a well mistaken assumption. Children radiate love and life, and there is no hesitation in answering the question of why I am still here. It is solely for them. The love they need from me and the love I receive from them. However thankful and in love with them I am, it is a different love than what I was blessed to share with my love.
Ungrateful, cowardice and selfish are the thoughts that come to play when my mind wanders to the place of how much happier I would be if I could join him. It is not my nature to take that road, I am not suicidal by any means. Being honest though, I am open to admitting my day dreams of how blissful I imagine death to be.
Not in the deepest depth of my imagination could I have conjured up the emotions that surround not having his heart beat next to mine. What is the meaning of life now without that love?
There is truth and inspiration that comes from loving yourself, however loving yourself only partially answers the impending question. What is it all for? When the bigger picture is observed and really delved into, why are we all here? There will never be one answer or a wrong answer. Unappreciative I am in these thoughts but more so inquisitive. For obvious reasons I can’t help but wonder what is beyond this life.
I miss being loved by him, I miss sharing in love with him. Our love fulfilled life around us. Not one day was mundane when he was here. Living each day with passion and zest.
Self-consideration, no longer do I feel confident with the meaning of life, it could be simply the act of living. And with that meaning the answer becomes a circle. Each individual creates their own answers I guess, when I really think about the question it’s not that difficult.
The meaning of life is to give life a meaning,
Never will it be just one thing. The bigger question, the hard question is why?
Why is never easy to answer.
For love, is what I would have said in November, even now love is what comes to mind. Love for my children and love for myself. Although love is still present it no longer serves the same fulfilment it did once before. Missing the man who loved my messy mind.
Living half in love and half in grief, grief that was generated from love.