And on another adage, sometimes you don't know how much you loved something until you realize you may have lost. Or if you love something, you have to let it go. How can we trust sensations if they can so easily lead us astray? I swore myself to emotional celibacy, and look, for a year, I fulfilled it, and yet I fell for what I thought was a safe situation, and fell right on my face. I despise this cloying desperation, this irrational angst and bitter desire. I want to place blame, but am unsure where to place it: in myself, for trusting too easily, for a faulty gut instinct, for not realizing how badly I had emotionally entangled myself until it was too late, for continuing to grasp, as if just clenching my hand tighter will slow the flow of sand from it? In the other, for poor communication?
Or maybe I really am overreacting. Maybe the unreturned phone calls and gentle let downs are all in my head. Maybe I've just inflated a situation, maybe I'm just going crazy, maybe this longing is just attaching itself to a convenient scapegoat, when what I really hunger for is a sense of self or just.. human touch. Or maybe I'm just making more of a drama mess for myself. Maybe this is all a reflection of finals stress or something. Maybe it's actually all fine, and in a week I will delete this.
All I can remember is reading you a rumi poem and realizing that, for once, I understood it. I'm an idiot.
And I'm not sure why I'm posting these ramblings to the web. Perhaps because I'm tired of burdening my friends with my madness, and if I put them here I can pretend somebody reads them, get them off my chest, and carry on with life.
I always get over this stuff. It just stings.
And now, I drop the drama like the lava rock it is, and refocus: this week's project is.... Planning a trip to the grand canyon for my mom before she leaves the country forever! Alright! Go team distraction!
