Do you ever get that feeling, that uncontrollable itch in the back of your mind, that if you just knew the ending you could withstand almost anything during the road that gets you there? I have been having that feeling lately.
People say knowing the ending takes the fun out of it. Or perhaps that the end isn't even the point, that life is about the journey, the experiences, the everyday air you breathe in and out at a regular beat. Sometimes I believe those things, I believe the point of life is just to live it as best we can because we only get one, as far as I can tell.
But, there are things I want to accomplish in this one life. People have their bucket lists, and I have mine too I suppose, though mine could just as easily be stitched on a doll's pillowcase as written down for how simple it is - marriage, family, love. Comfort. Warmth. A sense of peace. I want all of these things, more than I want to have a job I love or publish a book or pay off my loans before I die (though I want these things too.) And sometimes in my weaker moments, my more insecure moments (because, let's face it, we all have them), I sincerely worry that I won't have those things. That, because I don't know the ending, it may not be the ending for which I so truly wish. The ending that I rely upon getting to feel that I have lived my life as best I could.
And then, you know. I tell my friends these things and they tell me I'm great, and I tell my mother these things and she reminds me that I am twenty-six years old and that I will be fine. And then she tells me to get more sleep. Which, clearly, is not entirely unwarranted advice. But that itch to know the ending is still there.
In other news, I had a gigantic brownie at lunch today and I'm going camping for a great friend's birthday this weekend. So there's that. If the point is just to live life as best as I can, then today there is that much at least.
I'll report back on Monday with pictures and stories! Have a great weekend Bloggees.