The quiet storm...

I've been wondering if I should have tried harder to have an actual life, instead of just living for my job all those years. Honestly? I don't think so. That was who I was. I worked, sometimes long hours. I  played as much as I could ... I did my sports on the side, I went to concerts here and there. Went shopping in the city. It was good. Or was it just good enough? I was in a groove... at work. But... at some point that groove became a rut and I ended up spinning my wheels just to keep up. I actually had clients point out how wiped I looked near the end. Funny that I wasn't really scared when my life as I knew it ended. I had an idea of what I wanted to do next, and it didn't take me too long to determine how to go about it. I had to push for some things, others just fell into place. I actually pursued something for the first time in my life ... not necessarily a dream, but a risky venture. Risky because I knew I wouldn't be able to hack it on my own eventually, but, even knowing this, I did it anyways. When I was settled into the new digs, I had comments from prior office clients of how much less tired I looked. They could see it in my eyes. I think for the first time in my life, I savoured time itself. Sure, I had wasted what I had worked all those years for, but I was more relaxed, less stressed. However, regardless of the fact that I accomplished what I set out to do, ultimately, I failed. I accepted that. I just haven't been able to move forward. I may have even taken steps backwards. I struggle with myself. I fail to see the point in continuing. I need something to charge head first into. I need something to look forward to other than just paying the bills and buying food. There is no physical impediment. It is just me.. my weakness... my inability. The quiet storm rages on... and it ... rains.