To be loved

Is it too much to ask?

My friends talk about how they intend to make five million dollars in the next 10 years. Or how they’ll make a big difference in medical research, mathematics, or something. They’ll have some huge success in politics or in social work. And I have those dreams too. I’d like to think that I could be very successful in mathematics or in finance. I’m a brilliant young guy and I should be on top of the world by the time I’m 30! But is this really all I live for?

I’d rather be loved.

I’m pretty creative. I could do a lot if I were rich. I think I could keep myself occupied. But I don’t think that I would be able to manufacture the same kind of happiness that comes when you are with a person and all you care about is her and all she cares about is you.

On the other hand, wouldn’t it be better if I just gave up on this, instead of constantly wishing for it in vain? If I could be satisfied by professional success, and be satisfied to reign in solitude, maybe I would be much happier overall.

It’s amazingly hard to stop hoping for something. To convince oneself that the possibility does not even exist.