Square pegs and round holes

"Allow the world to live as it chooses, and allow yourself to live as you choose"

- Richard Bach




I've never been a patient person.

I took up lacrosse in 11th grade, because we had to play a sport. I lasted a week before the "concussion" I suffered 1 month prior, prevented me from continuing. I couldn't stand the fact that I couldn't pick it up quickly. That I was on the JV team. And that I was shitty, even for them.

I've never been a patient person.

I broke up with my first 3 girlfriends on a spur of the moment. I woke up one morning and no longer had feelings for them. Just like that. I ended it. I didn't realize why, until years later. Turns out all I was interested in was "Ever After". When I realized, even subconsciously, that they could not be a part of that, I was done.

Cold? Sure. But what did I know?

Then I found it. The "Happily" not the "Ever After". Turns out, for me at least, the "Ever After" wouldn't come so easy. "Happily" was a piece of cake. Found it at 17. Practically fell into it. "Ever After"? Not so much.

What does this have to do with patience?


It's always an interesting question. At the end of the fairy tale what happens in "Ever After"? Or, God forbid, what happens if "Ever After", doesn't turn out to be for"ever"?

For starters, it's a long road. Filled with small lessons. Baby steps. Pit stops that get you closer, even if it's just a couple feet at a time. It's lot longer than you want it to be.

Then somewhere along the way you realize that what you want and what you are looking for are two different things. That you will grasp onto anything that looks familiar, in the hope that it will float. But all you're doing is wasting energy swimming.

There are a lot of things that will float until you grab hold of them.


I've never been a patient person.


I want what I want. And I want to be who I want to be. It's not that I'm not willing to work for it. It's just that, sometimes it's hard to stare down a hill with the mountain looming behind.

Sometimes we're more comfortable with the familiar, because it's just that: what we're used to. But you're not going to get very far if you never leave home.


My problem is distinguishing between what I know and what I want. What I want is to feel safe. And too often I find myself grasping at things that won't float because that's all I know.