As someone who fancies himself an amateur writer, I often look for depth and meaning in places where it may not often be. Symbolism, turning points, double meanings, and all the other literary standards that I’m seeing far too often in my life of late.
Irony? Depends on the definition.
I haven’t felt like myself the last few weeks, but then, that’s changed so much the last few months. So much has changed, so much continues to change, that I’m not sure what normal is anymore, for me, or if I can or want or need to be what I thought ‘normal’ was once.
I am at once shattered and confident, present and far away, a liar and a leader. I’ve laughed and joked in the company of others, relished the presence of close friends and family who have supported me through troubles and tribulations, while brooding and stewing in those same troubles and regrets on my own time. I am an open conduit for my emotions, while trying fruitlessly to keep them locked inside. I have spoken in church about the value of finding one’s path in life while shouting at God about my own. I am the perfect man for what I do because of my strengths, and the worst man for what I do because of my weaknesses and troubles.
In the end, I am the only man for what I do, whatever it is. I have to believe that I’m here for a reason, as difficult as that has been and continues to be. And that God will give me what I need to endure, to press on, to do the tasks He has set before me.