Copenhagen, Denmark. April 16th, 4pm. “Why am I here? Why now? What for?” The constant background noise inside my head. I remember a few nights, the first month after I broke up, waking up at 4am. I would abruptly open my eyes and look around. Once I could finally see in the dark, I would have this daunting revelation: “I’m in fucking Denmark! What the fuck am I doing here?!” And, although the tone of the question is not the same anymore, it remains unanswered.
Life’s been rough the last few years, but calling myself a “victim” would be a big understatement. Yes, I have been wronged, hurt, betrayed and treated like shit. Over that I had no control nor a choice. But spending time in a life-sucking, spirit-breaking relationship, well, that was something I chose. Not because I’m a masochist, because I didn’t just go and say “I wanna get fucked the worse way possible.” Maybe I didn’t know better. Maybe I was too much of a romantic and not much of a sensible guy. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anymore. It brought me all the way here, for a reason. Which, of course, I’m still trying to figure out.
4:20pm, still in fucking Denmark, question still unanswered. Or not completely. I think I’m onto something. The Muse of Poetry pops up.
I don’t know who is more stupid
The one who broke It
Over and over and over again
And complained because It was broken
Or the one who saw how broken It was
But tried to repair It anyway
I really don’t know
Purpose. Or certain sense of purpose. If you ask me what keeps me going, what helps me endure the loneliness, the -thank God, fading- pain, and the never-ending questions; that is purpose. From poverty I learned to appreciate the small things, from an accident I understood how valuable life is, from a bad relationship I am in the process of having a higher understanding of love. And learning, my friends, is not complete without giving back, even the smallest amount of knowledge I’ve gotten so far. That feels like purpose to me. Hence, the witty phrase of today, to sum it up:
If you have something good, keep it. If it’s not good anymore, leave it.
Simple, easy to understand, and very precious. I learned it the hard way so you won’t have to. Not if you don’t want to. And now it’s almost 5pm. Still in Copenhagen. Still, the reasonable doubt. “What am I doing here?” But the sun is finally out, like a sign from above saying that things are gonna get better. Brighter. Soon-ish.