Content with what?

This is my first story I've written in a long time, and it's not so much a story as it is a reflection piece. Life as it is.

There is no real value in the word ‘content’. Yet it’s been a word I've been using repeatedly in response to how I'm feeling lately. But what really is there to be content about? It’s a idle state of being: a feeling of being reasonably happy, and not needing anything else to feel it. No pursuit for more than what is. For the first time in a long time, there’s nothing that is ‘wrong’ in my current situation. I view life with two perspectives, taking the shape of how things are and how they could be.

 

To give you an idea of why I am content, then here is a brief glimpse into what general life is like for me. First of all, I have a good job, where I work from 9 until 5 in an office job having climbed my way up into a full-time marketing position. This afforded me a car, meaning that I don’t have to suffer in the great annoyance of public transport any more. I drive home to a nice house in a good neighbourhood with belongings that could be described as luxuries - depending on who is asking. I have a lovely boyfriend that I've been dating for just over two years now, and he has some mental health problems but nothing that we can’t deal with. We have two cats and able to afford rent, new clothes, petrol and junk food. I binge watch TV shows until I can’t keep my eyes open any more. I only have a handful of friends, and only one that I'm really close to. But even then we've drifted apart.

 

And even though things are content, does this equate to happiness? In short, no. Because while you were reading that, I'm sure you may have been building an image of someone in their late 20's, early 30's, happily settled into a comfortable way of living. But I'm actually only eighteen, feeling like I am missing out on the best part of my life only to be another competitor in the rat race. Although, it isn't like I don’t do the normal things that us teenagers are meant to, for example, to lie. Because I just did there. I'm not really able to afford rent, but I do pay digs at my parent’s house. I suppose that’s a white lie, but there are many more stories I could write. Although, I would prefer it if I could create more stories with you. So bare with me, please, while I write all of the nonsensical thoughts that go through my head and all the stories that are to come.

 

And also, if I have one piece of advice to tell you, it is this: If you ask someone to tell you something interesting about themselves, and the first thing they say is relating to their job or what career they have, then they are probably not going to be the most exciting type of people to talk to. Unless, they are a writer, surgeon or pilot of course.

Author's Note

Anything you have to throw my way is greatly appreciated, be harsh if necessary. Open to all suggestions to help improve my writings and would just like to hear opinions!