Every Time I Have A Chance At Happiness, Life Drags Me Down

I’m so tired of feeling angry.

It’s not that I want to be this way. I’m in a constant state of development geared towards letting go of my helpless rage. I am infinitely aware that it solves nothing … but is it too much to ask life to cut me some slack for once? It’s as if I’m constantly being tested and quite honestly, I find it incredibly exhausting.

I don’t know what I’ve done so wrong. I’m continuously attempting to be kind and loving and mindful. Most of the time, I succeed fairly well, even in my own harshly particular opinion. Over the past several years I’ve completed so much work on myself. My life is full of therapy, yoga, journaling, and meditative time spent outdoors. It seems like no matter what I do, how deeply I search my soul, it’s never quite enough.

So, yes, I’m angry. I’m angry that I finally have a chance at a healthy, normal love and life just tries to fuck our relationship at every turn. I get the concept that we need to be able to work through the tough times, but how do we get ahead if all of the difficulties are primarily out of our control? It makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs, beat on something until I’m so tired I collapse. I know that life is not fair, but I do not understand why, after all these years of heartbreak and sadness, I am not finally allowed something good.

The weight in my chest has returned and this time I fear it’s to stay.

If I lose this one, the man who makes me laugh more than I ever thought possible, the best adventure partner I’ve ever had, the person I look at after all this time and still think is the most handsome guy I know – I don’t think I want to try anymore.

I mean it this time. I’m sick of having my every fault thrown back in my face in glaring detail simply by virtue of trying to love again. Romantic interactions only serve to remind me why I keep my distance. It’s too difficult, and then, when I finally overcome my issues and feel I’m improving, the world responds by taking away what I’ve earned.

I may not feel love when I’m alone, but at least I don’t cry.

The most difficult reality, the one hardest to accept, is that I can only control my side of the relationship. I will understand if he wants to walk away, if the problems and hurdles that life keeps using to thwart our happiness are too much for him to handle. I don’t blame him. I blame … everything else. I hate that around every corner lurks another unexpected barrier to our success.

All my life, I’ve wanted love like this so badly, and now it might disappear despite all the progress I’ve made. Everything I’ve done to improve my life and myself over these past several heartrending years feels for naught.

I’m doing my best to keep myself happy and positive, but I could use a break here. I don’t think I’m asking for much. All I’ve ever wanted is to find inner peace, a committed equal partner, and the chance to do what I love. I have no illusions that those are easy goals to achieve, but I keep putting in the work only to get thrown back on my ass over and over again. It’s difficult to bother trying at this point.

At least when I’m angry, I feel something. More often lately, I’m simply weary. Weariness is dangerous because it contains no energy, no forward motion … no hope. I don’t want to lose the best love I’ve ever had for no damn good reason. I’m tired of hurting.