Lost; Unfound

I have so many passions in life but they are too little to fill me, it seems. To draw, to sing, to write - I am never good enough to specialize in any of them. On days like this, I feel the weight of my own inadequacy pressing down on me. Pressing on me so hard that I feel I'd soon become a black hole. 

Perhaps I could say my greatest passion would be to love people. Except, I fear that I have failed even at that. 

What is it that I want?
What is it that I can be?
Who am I now?
Who will I be tomorrow?

Am I anyone at all at this point?

I have been in limbo for far too long - don't you think a whole life thus far lived is too lengthy of a time? And yet, I remember a time where I was certain of what I wanted to be. The three year old me who was adamant on being a nun, the six year old me who wanted to be a teacher, and the twelve year old me who boasted to be a nurse - All of them, I feel like I have lost, and I don't think I know what it feels like to be found anymore.

Was I ever even found?

And I'm so desperate wish that someone will find me. I want to scream into this void: "Someone, please. Take me away from here." But I know I can't. Not when I already know I have to be my own hero. And yet, there lies the problem: Heroes are always so lonely.

So I cry within myself a bit, and then some more. Until tears give way to something else.

~~~

"Mom, I want to study psychology."
"No, just no. Never."

"Dad, I want to shift into diplomacy."
"It's too late for that."

"Sister, I don't know what I'll be."
"Just don't think about it."

"But I can't not think about it."