Prayer and Perfectionism

My first entry of the year. It has been sometimes. And it has been somehow a tough time.
Many times I have reflected back on what have happens in my life, but let's leave that for another entry next time.

Right now at this moment, I can feel the sense of fears creeps in. Yes, when someone is brought up to be a perfectionist, there would be a heavy burden that need to be carried on everywhere, the fear of not doing well, of not doing what is expected, of what others might think when you are not doing what you're supposed to do.
It's tough sometimes, to be a perfectionist. How I wish I'm not.

And being lonely doesn't make things easier.

It is arguable how I ended up in this kind of situation. Even if I keep on thinking why and why, there will be no definite answers for that. It is not science. It is a matter of heart.

There are times when everything seems so dark and cold, so quiet I can hear my heart cried out.
Last time I knelt and prayed, that there will be someday when God will show me someone I can share my time with. Someone with ears to listen to, with chatter to fill the quietness, with a heart to connect to. I thought God have shown me that one. But probably I was wrong.

And today I knelt and prayed. There is a temptation to blame God for that. For taking away what He has provided, for taking the hope and happiness. But I tried to realise, because I believe, that probably He meant another way, something that I just can't understand now. I believe He has another plan.

And so I prayed the same prayer. That someday I would find the one.
But now, I know it would be much tougher, to believe something would work when previously it isn't.

A matter of heart is complicated. Always complicated. Especially for a melancholic like me.

Sticking to the principles, I tried to be sincere, true to my own heart. Loving someone, without thinking the other way around, without resorting to hatred. Let the nature takes its course. Let the heart heals.

And to curb the perfectionism, I have to start cut down the expectation.
If the worst comes, what are we losing? Does it matters?
So what is the one really matters?