Am I really so unique? I think I’m pretty ordinary. A person caught in the race of life. I was talking to a friend today and realised that when we find a person that we consider unique or different this can have life enriching but also damaging effects. You can get caught up in moments, thinking you will only ever experience this once. You can become so caught up that you start believing this is the end all and be all of what you’re worthy of.

I have been in similar situations. I have another friend that says nothing lasts. And this is probably true as well. But I’m a strong believer in choice. I don’t believe in destiny. I am not destined for unhappiness. Although I feel like this a lot, I keep reminding myself that life is all about choices. We choose how long we will let people control us. There is no denying it. You can reason and debate and wallow in self pity and destroy your life, your mind, your heart, and through doing so, think that you’re in control. You’re making the decision to hurt, to use, to discard all in the name of hurt. But the person that hurt you, they are still in control. No; control is actually making positive changes, even when you’re only seeing darkness and hopelessness. That is taking control. Starting the process of making choices that enhances your life, not taking steps back into the past. Yes, the past hurts, but moving forward is all you can do. There is no rewind button on life’s remote control. “What if’s” and “what could have been”  are negative, self destructive ways of thinking.

The only choice I don’t have is when and how I’ll die. I often think what people will say when I die. With the recent death in the family I was overcome with guilt for not wishing my family member happy birthday. For not messaging more frequently to find out how things are. I know life is busy, but I’ve realised that death brings people together. Isn’t that ironic? When we’re alive, we don’t have time to send a message or check in with a friend or family. When they die, we wish we did.

When I die I believe only a few people would have known the real me. The one I hide or keep under control. I know a lot of the people I’ve been close to this past year that will probably miss my body or my mouth, maybe my jokes. But will they feel as if something is missing from their lives? I think not. I know this because if I was a priority to them, they would feel me missing from their lives right now, while I’m still alive. My death would therefore not create any sense of “missing” for too long.

What I know is that some people was put on this earth to help others. Some think “I AM helping others” while others think “i am HELPING others” See the difference? Helping others can be a selfish act too. It’s all about the reason behind it. If not a selfless act of love or compassion, it’s not help. It’s stroking of ones ego. And this way, when you get tired of helping or being there for another person, you can just stop. Because your intention was never to help them. I know this, because I’ve done it. I’ve listened and helped others, but when they keep coming back and not “listening” to me, I got annoyed and tired and give up…because my heart was never in it. I feel bad for doing this. And those are the people I’ll try to reconnect with again. Because they really needed me, even if I didn’t need them.