trying to make sense in life and understand it's purpose

I've been meaning to understand life. I mean to try because I know I can't and probably won't, but I hold the miraculous hope that trying will be enough to navigate the misty waters of life.

I like answers like most people do. But I like them in the sense that I need them to continue with my day-to-day. I need answers to calculate my approach to doing something, plan something, or think about something. I need answers to explain my thoughts to myself. Why would I want to know exactly what is the meaning of love and how it feels when you are experiencing it if not for the sake of sanity?

Overthinker my entire life, I found reason and logic to be the foundation of the complex structure of my existence. I've always been curious and inquisitive because I've never felt safe in the place where I was. It took me a long time to understand it had little to do with the geographical place, the people around me, or even the activities I was engaging in. 

I was missing a piece inside my heart. My soul was wretched, agonizing for change, begging for something different, aching and longing for something that had never crossed my path and that I had never felt but that I was sure existed somewhere.

At some point, I let myself sink into the abyss, becoming apathetic about anything and everything. All things made me angry. I was frustrated. Why would I even want to set goals and objectives if life was meaningless and pointless?

But then I fell in love, and life became brighter. My voice was no longer echoing in an empty room; I was asked to speak for the first time in my life. I was listened, noted, considered, witnessed. The questions were directed at me, and I held the precious spotlight I had always yearned for. Somehow, I always return to the belief that love made me complete.

Answers remained the protagonists of my life, but the tenderness that grew from my heart painted yellow strokes all across my brain and everything seemed much more plausible and positive and interesting. I continued to overthink, and as happens with trees during autumn, my thoughts got the better of my interactions and corroded the love that had sprung between this new life and me.

But love left a sweet aftertaste despite the broken heart, and I continued to look for answers in a way that would've not been found if it had not crossed my path. 

Love. Oh, love.

Do you understand already why seeking the meaning of life is so important to me? Do you need more context? I would be happy to elaborate on the details.

It's an ongoing quest to infinity and self-discovery; every new day brings the reset button unpressed.