I find myself constantly torn between two great things, always wanting to take a third option, a new route, and unclaimed mistake.
Let me explain.
I have wanted to fulfil the duties of a housewife practically my whole life on some level (get out of here feminazis, I can make my own decisions as a woman), yet at the same time would love to be a breadwinner for my family, a headstrong sense of power embedded in me since my childhood (thanks Dad).
I want to be sexy and pornstar-great in bed for my fiance, yet at the same time I’m so sick of body-shaming and feeling worthless due to what some cock with a cock thought of me with a quick glance.
I want to pave the way for writers, develop a new type of writing style and way of thinking, yet at the same time, I’d like to have a more realistic life goal, not chase some passion my ancestors before me couldn’t even fathom of dedicating their life to.
During the day my mind is open and going at speeds I cannot even comprehend, I want to do so much with so little time and I cry and I get angry and I feel everything all at once, but at night I choose to shut myself down and try my hardest to do nothing, to feel nothing.
Half of my heart is dedicated to serving my family and ensuring nobody is unloved or unhelped, yet the other half wants to be independent, move away, and start a life of my own with my love.
And, perhaps most importantly, half of me misses religion, aches, yearns, burns for a faith I would give my life for. Half of me knows without a doubt that there is something more, something beyond, whether positive or negative. The other half, the more dominating half, feels hopeless and idiotic for feeling this way, feels alone and depressed and like none of this will ever matter.
I’m not depressed. I’m not happy. I’m just torn.
And while half of me wanted these words to be known, for you to read them and decide whether you agree or disagree, whether you feel motivated or depressed by my thoughts, the other half still sits here thinking ‘who the hell cares, all the libraries full of all the books and thoughts will burn down anyway, and nobody wants to know what you think in the meantime’.