A New Schnikism – The Art of the Choice

The truth is, I used to be angry at people who said that happiness was a choice. That you could just “choose” to be happy every day. And to a point, I still feel that it’s not a choice – not in the least – to choose to be sad or choose to be happy.

I’ve spent years in my life avoiding my emotions, building walls, keeping those from getting too close, too deep. I was choosing to acquiesce to those in my life by being the rock, the stregth, and the foundation they needed, all the while, painthing them a picture of the emotions I thought they wanted to see. They wanted the person who they thought they knew: The happy, emotionally-unflappable, caring soul that was giving to a fault. But what I found was that every time I pushed those emotions so far away, so down in a dark place, “choosing to be happy,” rarely was I actually happy. Rarely was I genuinely happy.

So, my “chosen happiness” led me on a path of self-destruction, self-punishment, self-flaggilation, and self-avoidence. In choosing happy, I wasn’t experiencing happy. It took many years of therapy to feel and learn to experience my emotions. To experience my emotions before, I found myself panic-stricken by any emotion that wasn’t happy or worse yet, little cracks would break through and the smallest frustration would become a seismic event. Once of epic proportions and usually leveled at the person I wasn’t actually mad at, or the small things would roll down the snowy hill like a pebble-come-avalanche.

Once I finally realized that I was the one who was unhappy at life, it was a bit too late because once I started to break down, tear down, and destroy the walls I’d put up around my emotions for my own safety, I found myself extremely unhappy, especially alone. As I said before, I’ve always been a bit of a loner – but the power of connection with others, the friendships I’d built, the common bond I shared with people made me stronger, made me able to face some of the hardships.

And the moment I opened up my heart to the world, because more of my true self, started to live an authentic life, started to raise my head out of the pain of a divorce, that’s when I thought I found “the one.”

Now, I’ve been, so far, fortunate to have many I’ve dated that I’ve truly loved. And I think, truly loved me. I read somewhere that you’re only supposed to have three true loves in life. And I call malarky on that. But, when I was most open to receive love, to experience it, is when I ran into the one which has confused me the most. Because it’s a person that even though we broke apart many months ago, I still think of him every day. He still affects me, every day. I still feel a connection to him, every day.

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.

Orson Welles

And I’m starting to believe that I will never know if he really felt the same about me. And every day I struggle with that knowledge. I struggle with the pain of losing something that felt like it was “just meant to be.” There are moments every day where I am reminded of some moment, even the smallest of measurements, of an experience we shared together. And I’m left standing there, or driving, or sitting here typing and the tears start flowing uncontrollably.

So, no. I do not believe that I am choosing to be happy or choosing to be sad. I am choosing to feel the emotions because I know the path of destruction that the other choice once left me on… To feel nothing… That’s what I don’t want. I don’t want the only choice to be apathy.

But still I wonder, Does he know how much I love him? Will he ever know? Or was it all just in my head?

Those thoughts will seemingly haunt me forever, because I don’t know how to get over him. I’ve tried to meet others, I’ve tried to date others, but it always seems there’s a game afoot, that these people purposefully lead me on, only to disappear. So I’m stuck in the spin-cycle-of-rinse-repeat.

No happy ending. No sad ending. No ending whatsoever. And until I can figure it out, I guess I’m left with experiencing the feelings of being sad one minute, happy another, and left with the power of the unknown. Only because I choose to feel my emotions rather than run away from them.

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