So I really like math. And not in some nerdy way like, ”Oh let me take calculus for fun.” No. No way. Let me set this straight now. I took developmental math in college. I hate math, but something about it makes me love it all the same. There is one part of math that I love though. That I gain complete and total satisfaction from; the one moment where math truly excites me and makes me unexplainably happy. And that part is when the problem works out just right, and it always does. When there is a formula, you enter the numbers, and everything comes out just as it’s supposed to. That is basically the perfect moment for me.

Recently I was working on a group project for a class and in my mind the math needed to work in order for the project to be successful. We plugged in the numbers and it didn’t work. We tried a different number, different formulas, but nothing worked. I got so caught up in the math not working that I couldn’t see the rest of the project.

I needed those numbers to work, because if they didn’t work the project wouldn’t be right; and if the project wasn’t right we would fail; and if we fail the project we fail the class; and if I fail the class I fail my Junior year; and if I fail my Junior year that means I have to do it twice, which means at least five years in college, which means all of my friends leave before me; and if my friends leave I have no social life; if I have no social life I have no boyfriend; if I don’t have a boyfriend I’ll never have a husband… and so the slippery slope continues.

Anyway I literally said this out loud to one of my group members and she kind of laughed after telling me to relax because it was just a math problem. But that’s the thing. If one thing is supposed to always work out it is a math problem. Somehow they always come out the right way. The first time you may make a mistake but the second time you just edit it a little and then it works. That’s how math goes, and if a math problem won’t work out correctly, nothing will.

But then there’s life. Without any formulas. No eraser. Just life. I can’t simply erase a person the way I erase a number. Or move that person to the spot that some book told me to put them in. That is just not how life works. But still every time a trouble comes my way I ask myself the same question: how does all of this work out in the end and how do I get to that spot where it is all okay? I still always find myself searching for the way to solve the problem as efficiently as possible. Whether it is aching for someone in my core or hearing someone else is being held captive by cancer. Isn’t there some neat, nice, formula like way for all of this to be fixed? But life shakes its head and laughs at that. Life doesn’t care about how things are supposed to work out and how that may look for the people affected by life itself. Life just keeps moving.

When your heart breaks once again life doesn’t say, “Okay enter reasons why he was awesome in the ‘x’ spot and reasons why he doesn’t like you in ‘y’ and then add the variable of reasons why it is good you aren’t with him as the ‘z’ and basically that will tell you how to get over him and how long that will take and when it is safe to fully move on and him not want you back ever again.”

Nope. I wish there was a formula for curing heartbreak and I wish a graph could point me to the medicine that remedies diseases. But low and behold, it doesn’t. And here we are going through life trying to figure everything out. Trying so hard that it seems like the only thing that truly every really works out the way it is supposed to is math.

And if life worked like a math problem everything would turn out right, perfect. We would live in this great world where we all have a soul mate, healthy friends and family, a high paying job, a roof over our head, and food on our plates. Our hearts wouldn’t hurt and war would be something of the past. But the more I experience hurt and missing people and sickness and the general ups and downs of the life around me, the more I think that if life were like a math problem maybe it would simply be boring. It would be perfect, but boring.

And if life were simply formulas we would just be cold, distant versions of ourselves. A pile of seven billion robots walking around with all of the same things figured out in the same way without too much variation. But if I never experienced rejection or heartbreak or death right in front of my face I may never have become the person I am today. See those things that don’t fit in formulas are the things that are truly the most character creating. I have learned that some people are bad for me. And others were so good for me that learning to move on feels like I am losing a part of myself, but our timing was just off. I’ve learned death is life, it sucks but it is life, which seems backwards, and it has taught me to cherish those around me with an even deeper love than ever before. Heartbreak and failing and loss creates personality; it gives us something to work through that is harder than plugging in numbers and looking at a graph because that is easy.

And, hey, if you want easy that is fine by me. Easy is acting like life does fit in some formula. That holding back feelings will keep you protected. That if he likes you he will tell you. That the disease will go away one day. Pretending life fits in these perfect x+y=z formulas is really just cheating yourself out of life.

You want real life outside of some formula? Tell the disease to suck it because you can beat it on your own, but if you can’t then you’ll have as much fun losing as possible. Don’t be afraid of failure, do risky, take chances and follow the dreams that pull you out of bed in the morning. If you cant stand where you are in life pack your bags and drive across the country or move across the pond, because who knows maybe there will be someone waiting for you over there, maybe happiness is simply a plane ride away. Tell the boy of your dreams you like him, put yourself out there, let your walls down, be real with him because there is nothing worse than not knowing and simply wishing.

The risk of these scenarios is ridiculously high, but with great risk comes great reward. And maybe the reward isn’t getting the boy of your dreams, maybe it is pointing you in the direction of the man of your dreams. We hold this foolish idea that reward comes right away and that pain doesn’t create rewards in life. But with every risk there is some type of reward. Whether it is a lesson learned or gaining the dream life you always wanted. Reward comes in different shapes and sizes, and that’s why formulas don’t work. Because reward and circumstances aren’t absolute. Reward is simply what you make of the circumstances that surround you.

Looking back at the scenario with my group project I now laugh along with my group member who told me to relax. Because formulas are meant for math and that is the simple truth. When we are born we aren’t given a list of formulas for the test, we are simply tossed into the final exam and wished good luck.

So, good luck.