Are we predestined in this life?

That thought lingers in my mind sometimes. Through the myriad of situations I find myself living in. That trapped feeling, as if things were meant to fall into place. Any new person I encounter, any new setback I experience, any new triumph. I wonder if I was locked into this. That I have no control.

I start talking to a girl. She shows some sort of interest. And then, I get tongue-tied. The brain ceases to work. As if an outside voice tells me that I can’t continue anymore. What does it mean? Is there something out there that keeps my whims at check? I don’t know.

I was fairly old when I realized that I am predestined to end up unhappy. Somewhere in between the choppy introduction I told to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and with the recent news that she will be marrying my brother. Somewhere in between the last broken hook-up and hangout. It just hit me like a truck. I cannot end up satisfied. I’ve given it the old college try on numerous occasions. Only to end up dissatisfied with every person I meet.

When I was young, I knew I’d end up in an unhappy marriage. Leading to a messy, shaky divorce. Something about the life I had been living to that point made me realize that. It was the soft-acceptance of what life had thrown at me. From being in the best shape of my life, and immediately injuring my leg. Knocking me out for months. It was inevitable it seemed. Like I couldn’t afford to be happy, even if I tried.

Maybe we will mosey and wander into love. But I am not holding my breath for that moment. I’ve come to expect failure.