There’s a disconnect between the things I want to do and the things I think I should be doing. Expectations that I make up to project on other people. A constant disbelief doing what I care about—what makes me happy—is enough for those around me. The obvious flaw is that even if it wasn’t good enough for them, why should that matter to me? I don’t light fires in my heart to keep you warm. I do that for me. Don’t I?

I find myself regularly doing the things I think other people want me to do. Constantly hearing things that aren’t being said, picking up on cues they never meant to send. My whole life becomes wrapped up in doing what I think would make people comfortable. What would make them able to breathe easy. I can make myself satisfied in the process, yes. But it will always be only satisfactory. It’s lacking heart.  Continue reading →