Ever hear people say something like they didn’t know what was missing until that something or someone came along, or something to that effect? Well, how about the converse? Sometimes you think you’re looking for someone, for something, for an event, for a certain kind of life. Then one day it starts flickering in front of you like a hologram slowly stabilising. You can see the shape it’s going to take. It looks like what you thought you wanted, what you had been visualising. As you stare at it, you take a step back. You look at it again. Slowly, you start to recoil a little, in slow motion. It surprises you. The realisation is a little calming–and a little unnerving at the same time.
You realise that you had complained about its conspicuous absence, you had searched for it, you had wanted it and you had made no secret of that. But now…now that it is within grasp, whether temporary or permanent, you don’t want it. Maybe you didn’t want it all along, maybe you stopped wanting it at a certain obscure point, maybe you got used to doing without it, you can’t be absolutely sure what happened to that strong desire but you know it doesn’t exist anymore.
You didn’t know you are mostly happy with the status quo, that you crave that elusive something only a fraction of the time. It’s calming because until now it had not struck you just how content you are. You had given in to the superficial yearning and you didn’t know it. You let the few moments of desire dominate. You let that feeling linger and you simply didn’t know it.
It unnerves you a little too. Why don’t you know yourself better? Why could you not tell what really will and what really won’t make you happy? It’s a learning experience. Make mistakes, learn the lessons and move on. Don’t repeat the mistake. Sure, but what are you going to end up doing in one of those dominant moments? What are you going to give up and what are you going to let in?