I frequently find myself thinking: maybe one day.
Maybe one day it will all work out. Maybe one day it’ll all hit me — what I’m supposed to be doing with my life, where I should be going, what I should be pursuing. Maybe one day things will finally fall together. Maybe one day he’ll come around. Maybe one day. Just maybe.
Maybe one day, all of the stars will finally align.
And I sit, patiently, and I wait. I take comfort in the premise that “things will come to me in time.” And I decide to not actively seek things out. To take a step back. To focus on myself and know that the universe will take some sort of control. But am I right? Am I doing the correct thing?
It’s a difficult balance. A balance of being a go-getter with a balance of letting go of some…
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