I don't know when, or how but somewhere along the way, I stopped looking. I stopped looking for something to be interested in, be it a hobby or what I'm looking forward to learn or study about. I stopped looking for places to go be adventurous. I stopped looking for specific things I need, I always settle for a substitute or second best. I stopped looking for the feelings I misplaced, about all the people that I once cared about. I stopped looking for friendships that could have been possible and confined myself in this bubble of security. I stopped looking for specific books to read as I would in the past, to match up to what I was feeling. I stopped looking for someone, for a hand to hold, for thoughts to be conveyed. I stopped trying to look.
Nothing pains me as much as my lost curiosity. I would reckon is one of the causes for where I land today. There is no longer a zest, a flicker of light or that sparkle in my eye. Just because I gave up. Comfort is salvage. You're safe, but unhappy. Is this how to live?
The thought of having someone to hold, to care about is frightening. How could one put all the trust in one person?
"Let love come to you and don't go looking for it."
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