Enough

I have a great life: I have a wonderful family who supports me, friends who are there for me, two stable jobs that provide me with sufficient funds, and a fancy 3rd floor apartment in downtown. I am a struggling but still successful musician with so much ahead of her and so much potential. I have a wonderful boyfriend who is nothing but good to me, takes care of me, loves me, and treats me the way every girl should be treated.

... Yet even though I seem to have it all, it always seems that it is never enough. There is always something missing. Am I to be reduced to nothing but a constantly unsatisfied creature, who only seeks but fails to get rid of the hateful and negative thoughts that plague her? I don't know what is wrong with me; I always ruin everything. In spite of all the things in my life that yield positive results, I can't seem to avoid the only conclusion I've consistently known -- that I hate this life. I need more of something, a tangible object to fulfill my desire, but I can't find it. Where are you, what are you, why haven't I found you yet?

So the question is that despite leading a normal, ideal lifestyle that everyone seeks as an adult, while being exactly where you imagined yourself to be, is the grass really greener on the other side?