This I Used to Believe

I honestly don't know if I'm going through a delayed quarter-life crisis or not, but I'm getting this intense feeling that I need to do something more with my life. I didn't exactly know what this "more" was until I did this usual thing of looking at where I am now in my life vs where I want to be in my life. It didn't really take long after figuring that out that I'm feeling this way because I haven't really achieved my life's dream yet.

If you've been here for a long time or you actually know me, my dream has always been to be a father. A dad. Funny enough, I've wanted to have a kid ever since I was a kid. That's how much I've wanted to be a dad. And you can thank SpongeBob's Rick-a-Bye Bivalve episode for that. It always seemed so cute and endearing to fully take care of another person; I don't know why. To have an actual partner help out with that seems extremely cute, too.

But reality hits hard. I'm a few years away from 30 and, what, like, I've never had a girlfriend before. I've actually just had my first-ever date a few months ago, and even that went nowhere. So, after many years have passed, it's time to revisit that belief.

"Maybe things might change?"

Every friend I have opened up to about this says that they still have a belief that I can still reach my dream. To be fair, their being optimistic is valid. I mean, I dropped out of college, and I didn't expect that I'd crawl my way up to being a senior developer in IT. It would've been unbelievable to hear that I'd have this role when I dropped out 8 years ago.

And there is a very slim chance of hope. Part of me believes in it, too. Maybe things can change, you know? Maybe I might just bump into a girl who sees potential and would want to start a life with me. Maybe I'll meet someone who'll say that I'm their safe space and will ask me if they're my safe space, too. Maybe, right?

I used to have so much optimism about this dream. I would go to sleep with a smile, excited to meet new people at events and gatherings just for this dream. There were so many times in my life when I imagined myself having a bright future with this new person I'm talking to. I would actually imagine that this person could be "the one."

That optimism, those dreams and hopes were all nice. It seemed nice to imagine that this person could be the one for me. This person gave me a chance to go on a date with them, surely they're the one? Or how about this new girl? She and I get along so well, and our humor matches. It was all nice until I realized that all that optimism was honestly just for nothing. The people whom I thought were "the one" never actually were the person for me.

People have hope and optimism for me because they don't know what I've been through. I have optimism for myself because I forget what I've been through. I've done so many things for people whom I thought were the one, and have gone above and beyond to show my best side to people. I've written poems and written letters to girls who have given me love letters. I've poured so much of my heart into pieces of paper just for them to end up in a landfill sometime later. All the gifts that I put in time and many sleepless nights to make were just sent to the garbage.

All the times I was happy and hopeful, all resulted in me feeling used and alone at the end of all of that. With me, right now, writing this on my bed and with my thoughts, all alone.

I will always be grieving

I think the saddest part of realizing all of this is that, most likely in this lifetime, I'm never going to become a father. The saddest part of giving up a dream is giving up all hope for it, and all the wishes I've had for it, too. Most people don't know the many times I've gone through a rough day at work, just fully stressed out and tired from it all, and the only thought I would have to myself is that, "I'm doing this for my future wife and kids." I believed that this would all be worth it.

I will always grieve the person I couldn't become.

This was just a sad realization because what I'm wishing for isn't actually that absurd. I didn't have this delusional idea that I'd be the world's richest man, or be incredibly famous, or that I'd have control and be influential over so many people. I just wanted to be a dad. I would've been happy with my life in a small, cute house in the middle of nowhere with them. I would be the dad that told stories, be the husband that always listened and helped their spouse, and I'd have incredible versatility to power through life's challenges because I'm doing it for them.

I imagined myself being the strongest person in the world for them. To just have the worst days at work, but to have my partner send a selfie of themselves and our kid, and it would instantly brighten my whole day. Our family trips would be extremely fun and crazy, like we'd go camping or hiking. I would hear my baby's first words, and I'd probably make something cheesy out of it that our family will look back on.

And it's absolutely depressing that I will never be that person in this life. I can't put it any better into words how much sadness this makes me feel. I've literally cried several times while writing this post alone.

Honestly, I feel like I have so much love to give, and I genuinely believe that's meant for my future wife and kids. Don't hit me with that, "oh, but you can just give that love to yourself," or "you can give that love to your friends and extended family." That love I feel is real, and it's only for a space I can call my own family. I've seen my friends leave, I've seen my communities break apart, and my family has their own stuff to do. And I already love myself enough, and I imagine better things for myself.

It's just hard to come to terms with the idea that I'll have to give up on this belief. I'll choose another life for myself instead.

With the death of a belief

I think it's an innate part of me that I'll inevitably see the good in the bad. I'll always see some silver lining, no matter how thin it is. And until that day comes, I'm still going to make this a life worth living.

Sadly, giving up on that belief, "Plan A," means that I already know what will happen in 9 years. "Plan B" sounds fun. It is actually for me to have fun and enjoy my remaining days, but this is what my life is supposed to be like, I guess.

The life I'll live is the complete opposite of the life I've wanted. Rather than staying in one place, I'll see many places for myself. I already started it. I went to Korea alone. I went to theme parks alone, went into many cafes alone, and enjoyed my experiences alone. I'll enjoy the next few years as I have been enjoying the last few ones—all alone.

That's honestly the life that I'll look forward to. No more believing that a person could be "the one" because that person doesn't exist. Why have a long-term partner when I could just see various places in the world only for a night, right? At least I won't have to worry about making my kid's recital or taking some time off for my kids. I could work all day, all night, and no one would care. No one would know better. "Dart's just busy work," or I'm someplace off in another country. I wouldn't even think of staying at a single place because there's no one to stay for.

It's sad, but I've honestly given up. I don't care anymore. Whatever, God, I'm going to have fun in my own way.

It's just funny that I'll be pursuing the complete antithesis of my dream that I've held on to for so long. But I think I've finally made up my mind. No one's coming to save me, and no one's going to build a life with me.

I'll build a life for myself, and only myself, moving forward. I'll be lonely, I'll wish to have it shared with someone, but I always have. That's just the way it is.