Enigma of 2020

How many of us have thought about how 2020 was supposed to be our year? How many times have we thought about how 2020 mistreated us and nearly sabotaged us? We stayed a lot of long nights contemplating the reasons behind the catastrophic situations that have been invading our lives in the past few months since the commencement of 2020. We all wanted reasons. We wanted to ascertain an easy correlation between our actions and the bad that has been taking over our lives.

2020 was the year I hoped to love fiercely, to put my heart onto my sleeves and to allow people to see the innermost parts of it. It was the year I hoped to stop emulating others' guidelines that no longer fit me. It was the year I hoped to dive deeper into love, to create something enchanting yet authentic. It was the year I hoped to bare my soul, to show my vulnerability and scars. I hoped to look back at myself and feel proud knowing that despite it all I've made it.

2020 was supposed to be the year of fulfilled dreams and promises. It was supposed to be the year where we finally discover the long-dissipated love of our lives. It was supposed to be the year where we finally settle in and find our true purpose in life. It was supposed to be the year where we finally learn the reason behind all of the dilemmas that once occupied our lives. More importantly, it was supposed the year where we finally after a long time of constant fighting, we'll figure out our heart and mind and learn to unearth the harmony between its polarities. It was supposed to be the year of peace.
But it wasn't.

Instead, it was and is still, a year full of tears and shattered dreams. It filled me with so much despondency. 2020 was the year I realised that my life is built of paper walls, so easy for it to shatter yet hard to rebuild. 2020 was the year I saw the boundless love that I was wrapped in for four years, leave.

It makes me wonder, what is 2020 trying to teach me? Which piece of the puzzle am I missing?