Something I wrote in 22.12.2005, a slightly shorter version:
Warm Heart, Cold Heart
The symptoms of being in a high: High self-esteem. High hopes. High awareness of all the opportunities that lie ahead of me, and how capable I am of taking them. All the cities I could “spend a year” in, all the different, interesting jobs I could take, all the different ways I could make a difference in the world… The colors of the world, all that history, all the different songs, different tastes, different people, all the passion, joy, variety and beauty… I have done quite a bit already, and I could do so much more! I’m independent, I’m self-sufficient, strong and capable, I don’t have any attachments or hard feelings, I don’t need anyone. Everybody pursues their own happiness, and one can’t really count on anyone to love them purely and unconditionally. I don’t trust anyone completely, so I don’t care about anyone because I’m certain noone can care about me like they should. So I’m a rock, I’m an island, I touch noone, noone touches me. And this is my high, my branches reaching out to the sky, all so self-possessed, they are so high above that they would all claim they are rootless.
Then all of a sudden I go into a low again. Now I don’t look into the future, but I look into the past. I see the people I loved, and whom I still love. Most of the time they are away from me, and so is happiness. I see missed opportunities in their lives, and in my life. I see people who had passions and dreams, who now have only habits and obsessions. I want to stay with them, I don’t want to have to go away from them all the time, I can’t leave them behind. I care for these people, and still I’m afraid that I don’t care for them enough, that I can’t make them happier. I want to go back to my roots, where it’s warm and familiar, where I miss and where I’m missed.
Then my cold heart tells me that if I went to my roots, there would be some missed opportunities, I will become someone with habits and obsessions. I shouldn’t be tricked by love or my motherly instincts, because I suspect they will get old as soon as they are fulfilled, and I will give too much and get too little in return.
And my warm heart tells me that having no pain, no attachments, no responsibilities means being cold and lonely. And I know that I owe my ability to even dream about all these possibilities to my family's patient, hard work.
I don’t know how to be happy, and what step I should take next.
But wouldn't not seizing these opportunities betray their hard work in the first place? We all have to be rational.