Someday

Someday.

Someday I’ll have it all figured out.

I’ll understand what it means to be a man in this world.

What it means to be a human being simply trying to feel whole.

Most days, I spend hours just trying to feel okay — in my bones, in my soul.

You probably wouldn’t guess that if we met.

There are few visible signs of the quiet war that wages inside me.

But it’s there.

A constant companion — unwanted, yet strangely familiar.

It’s always been this way.

Even as a child, I’d find myself wrapped in a deep sorrow I couldn’t explain.

No reason. No trigger.

My home was full of love. My belly full of food. My bed warm.

Still, the shadow lingered.

I’ve spent a lifetime wrestling with that feeling.

And maybe by admitting that, someone else out there might feel less alone.

Truth is, I believe this ache — this unsettled part of me —

is what pushes me to create something lasting.

Something beautiful.

I had a conversation recently about the muse.

Is she a lifelong companion or a fleeting mistress?

For me, she’s more like a spirit guide —

Leading me through the valleys,

pointing out the meaning in the moments I wish I could forget,

revealing lessons hidden in the dark.

Someday, I’ll understand it all. Or maybe I won’t.

But maybe that’s not the point.

Maybe the point is to keep moving.

To try to be better than I was yesterday.

To love with everything I’ve got.

To make people laugh — because that’s the medicine I know how to give.

Someday, I’ll understand it all.

Or I won’t.

And that’s okay too.