I’m restless

Every so often I get an itch. The telltale signs of the oncoming itch are always the same and once it’s there, it’s beyond impossible to ignore. For years I always wondered if it was me. If I was ungrateful, expecting too much, empty inside, or simply incapable of ever being satisfied.

They say home is where the heart is and yet I’ve never felt like my heart truly belonged. Anywhere. Some people find their purposes in life in getting married, buying houses, having children, etc. There’s nothing wrong with that nor am I knocking any of it. I too wish I could get married and stop my soul from always feeling like there’s something more. But I can’t. There is more. And I desperately need to go after it.

My heart yearns for something more. My soul aches for an experience that cannot be described with words in any language of the world. My entire existence relies on the experiences and challenges brought before me.

I write this from the comfort of my 1-bedroom apartment in San Diego where my only challenge at the moment is if I’m going to be late to my 11:30 appointment. I am. I think about my first-world problems and know that none of it truly matters. My gym membership, filling my car up with gas, having extra money to go to that swanky sushi restaurant that just opened up, catching up with the latest trends. None of it absolutely matters.

In my 31 years of life I have been truly happiest when I have been completely lost, hopeless, and without a clue in the world how I was going to fix whatever situation I was in. Being the emotional being that I am I always face situations like that with tears. Lots and lots of tears. But in the end, it always works out and I emerge a new being. Stronger, emotionally and mentally, and wiser. Each hardship forces me to remove whatever hardened skin I’ve built up around me and start anew.

I sit here restless, knowing that this life isn’t for me. This can’t be it. Wondering if the open bar tonight is going to extend past the promised hour shouldn’t be on my mind. This world is so big and full of richness that I can only dream of obtaining. Maybe it’s a first-world problem to always want more. Maybe it’s an American thing to want to “find my purpose.”

Whatever it is, I know that this itch needs to be scratched. It is a bit selfish of me to want to leave my home and family behind. But the truth is that I have to live this life for myself and no one else. When I leave this world behind I can’t bare to think of the idea that I’d look back on my life and know that I was always there for everyone else, except for myself. I have to be true to myself and I can only do that by truly satisfying my soul and taking it on whatever adventure it is that awaits. Be it living in Mongolia and walking miles and miles for drinking water, or residing in an attic atop a centuries-old building in a European country.

The last couple of months have been truly eye-opening for me. The more I search for what it is I want in life, the more I realize what it is I don’t want. The white-picket fence isn’t for me and I shouldn’t feel bad for not playing along with society’s rules.

Wherever I go, I know that it will be hard. Tears will be shed. Relationships lost. But if the end of all that I emerge a better person, the risk was all worth it.