As weird as it may sound I have this issue. I kind of remember Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, but probably my comparison is highly exaggerated. Even so, if I don’t finish things, I feel like there’s a life crisis.
I read entire books just to finish them even if I don’t like them or reading them is a total bore. I know life’s short, and that we’d better do things we enjoy to keep it going perfect, but this problem is like a little dot on my brain that doesn’t help me too much. For example, I still remember that in high school I’ve started reading Eliade’s Nineteen Roses, and didn’t finish it. I was 15. I didn’t understand what the author meant. Problem is, I feel guilty. Even now!
I just can’t leave books unfinished!
Same habit with relationships. They’re like a circle, and only when the circle reaches full closure and meets the other end to be perfect I can get over a relationship. It’s like the things left unsaid or feelings unrequited.
In a very human way, the things I don’t finish are the ones I can’t forget.
They haunt me, scare me…they’re there…somewhere deep down trying to reach the surface.
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