I give up. I quit life. When I was younger, I told myself never to say these things. I didn’t follow it up, obviously. I’m not sick. My family’s whole. I have a job. I have a God. But my predicament stays the same. I give up.

Why? What went wrong?

At first I thought it was about me frustrated at being single for the last 23 years. Then I discovered it was something way bigger than that. I was  faithfully and naively lovestruck with love and life, believing with my whole heart that they’re a rose garden, a pleasurable walk in the park. Yes, there will be occasional drizzles, but they’ll still turn out perfect if you work hard enough.

I wasn’t wrong just once. I had been wrong a couple of times, but I never stopped working, because who knows when I’ll get it right one day? Who knows when they’ll prove me right?

What went wrong…were the regrettable decisions, the failed investments, the innocent mentality that if you made things easier for people, they’d do the same to you. What went wrong…was I spent a lot of time and energy working so hard, hoping to make them right. And by right, I mean, according to how I wanted them to be.

What went wrong…was when I took too long believing “right” was right by me.

I had to stop.

And stopping meant I had to give up…on holding on to everything that I wanted to believe was supposed to happen to me. after all, I worked hard, didn’t I?

When I was just recovering from a horrible heartbreak, I led a group of more than thirty, and stuck it out even when no one listened to me. When I was hurt that a lot of people were always bringing up how pretty my sister is and how fat I was, I just cried all the resentment out. I didn’t pull her hair off of her head (sis, I love you and all, but yeah, these things really get to you. Thanks for understanding). When I was backstabbed and bullied by the good Christian girls in high school, I was the one who was sorry that I wasn’t like them. I had to stop believing in and doing all those things…for the sake of getting the rosy rewards I have always hoped for…

Those rosy rewards He promised.

Or at least, His book, people, and church claim He did. I can’t deny that there is a God, but I can’t say for sure how He really looks at people…let alone, me. I’m not the best-behaved believer there is, but I’m not a bad person. I’m actually quite “by the book”, if you think of it, but the life He gave is full of upheavals and heartaches.

I can get a lot of things out of it, but never the acceptance and love I want and always tried to give. Call it a matter of timing, or a mysterious will…but it simply isn’t working out. It’s hurting me repeatedly. After years of calling the painful cycle of heartaches a form of tough love and learning, I just had to face it:

I wasn’t growing anymore. 

Holding on to an image of a loving Being who grants my heart’s desires isn’t getting me anywhere, as far as spirituality is concerned. When things don’t happen the way I thought He promised they would, the blame goes to Him. I hate doing that, and I hate holding on to expectations that I think are based on something greater than my beliefs.

I hate getting angry when my prayers aren’t answered the way I thought they would be. I hate living within the confines of everything I thought I knew and believed to be good.

I know I sought something good, really good…but I got stuck along the way.

I started at the right foot…seeking something good. I stumbled upon what I thought was supposed to be how good looked like, pursued it, expected results, worked towards them, and exhausted myself in the process. I didn’t fail miserably. I did learn, I did succeed in some aspects of my life. But I got stuck in doing things a certain way, hoping for different results that never really came to be.

I knew things had to change. 

I still believe in the good of all these things, of love, of a God…but I can’t always insist on seeing them through the lenses I’ve become so used to looking through. I can’t stick to holding on to a good image of life, love, and God, and getting upset to be living by and throughout something that’s almost always quite the contrary.

I’m giving up on something good, because of that.

And it’s not entirely out of resentment and jadedness. Though I must admit I have become REALLY jaded, accumulating heaps of trust issues and all. It’s because I realize that I only know what I think I know, and nothing more than that. I know that life exists, and so does love and God. But I have been contented to see just one facet of them, and that hasn’t expanded since then.

And I look forward to it expanding and becoming more dynamic, more alive, whatever that means. I look forward to becoming more dynamic and more alive myself. Though, I’m not sure when that’ll happen. Well, who is, anyway?


While love or God or the universe is an open door, my heart isn’t. Yet.

Crap has piled up, causing a little too many cracks…and I’m not done crying. I’m not done grieving. Then again, I’m not done living. And I’m quite sure whoever or whatever’s in charge isn’t done with me, either.

I chased after and expected what I thought was good, and I couldn’t reach it. Call it epic fail or sour-graping. But giving it up and letting go of it after all these years made me feel as if, yes, finally, I’m giving it a chance to unfold the way it wants to. And finally, I feel like I can breathe…surrendering to whatever it is that I have yet to meet and know.

Giving up has often been about ending something good. For me, it still is…but it’s my way to surrender to something I can never fully know, but maybe, I can truly trust, live, and love, one day. Maybe there are no guarantees, but there are possibilities.

Yes, I quit life. Because I need and will make a new one.