I’ve been thinking a lot about belonging. About how we, as individuals, belong. To whatever. Whomever. However.

It’s an important concept. Or so I’ve come to believe. We all long to belong, yes? It makes more sense if you actually think about it. The idea. Of belonging. If you don’t think about it, if you take it for granted, the idea that you just belong, well, there’s no room for discussion. For thought.

But if you’re me, and you’ve always felt you’ve never belonged, to any one group, or to any one idea, then you struggle. And it’s a horrendous struggle. It lacks definition, boundaries; it lacks the hues and strengths of colour and pretext. It lacks depth and perception. There’s no sense to it. No matter how you try, you simply cannot bring to completion a full picture.

What I’ve come to know is that we choose to whom, or what, we belong. It’s an individual choice. You can want to belong. To all kinds of groups. Or you can choose to not belong at all (which is self-defeating; no matter what you think, you will always belong to some group, will you or nil you. No man is an island, right?)

I’ve spent many years fighting against belonging to anyone or any thing. I’ve been singular in my devotion to self, to the detriment of myself. Therein lies the lesson I have learned. You can’t fight what is natural. People need to belong. If you don’t belong, to someone, something, some…idea…there’s something seriously wrong. With you? Maybe. Hey, if you can’t take a little criticism, sorry, but there it is. That criticism is leveled against me, as well. I’ve learned the hard way, that as much as I’ve ever (once upon a time) not wanted to belong, it doesn’t work that way.

I find myself now in a position where I belong, without even really meaning to. Happenstance is a ridiculously long word that basically means, yeah,¬†shit happens. And I find I want to belong. I can have a talent, and a character, and possibly a career, and certainly friends and associates, and a girl, and all the good stuff that comes with all those things…and it means I belong. To something. To someone. To this life. To humanity.

Once upon a time that would have made me rebel. Once upon a time I would have fought the very idea. Now? Well now, I temper my temper, and I think, Well, why not? It’s not a bad thing. To belong. If I belong. If they want me, accept me. If she wants me, accepts me.

I can only fight for so long. And I’m tired of fighting. One sided fights are exhausting.