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Can You Be Imprisoned By Love?
Or maybe it’s guilt that stops me from walking free.
For a man my age my life is far from typical. Though many may say this, I would wager that mine is further from normality than most.
I am twenty-nine years old, I am the full time carer for my thirty one year old sister, we live together with my sixty-six year old retired mother.
Some people might look on my situation with admiration. Others with suspicion.
What is motivating that twenty-nine year old man with the whole world at his feet to remain still, stuck in one place, physically and mentally?
Their doubts would be well founded. I ask my self a similar question most days. Often when the day is dawning and distractions are waning, I am left with nothing to confront other than the question of what my life’s purpose really is.
The experience of feeling this question saturate my presence is not pleasant. It’s heavy. Suffocating. I feel like I’m drowning and the air that I’m gasping for is an answer to the question that I don’t know.
In passing I would say that it is Love that keeps me where I am. But Love is an easy word to throw around. I would say that I believe that Love is the purpose of life because I am Christian. But being able to say the words…
