“Drops of Jupiter”

I have perhaps cried more times in the last 5 months than in the last 5 years combined. That may in part have something to do with the fact that there is now someone on the receiving end of sirens. It makes me feel like some overgrown and overindulgent baby whining and complaining and crying without the adult quite being able to understand why nor how to conciliate me. The baby just cries, grows exhausted from it, and falls asleep. That’s sort of how my crying goes, too. Crying for the sake of?

Maybe the crying works more like a crack in a dam. The walls hold the water in so tight until finally a build-up of pressure creates a crack — a sliver of an excuse to show the drops, and slowly the water corrodes the wall that suddenly it’s just okay for the water to flow through to the other side because it is inevitable.

Despite proclaiming how I’ve suddenly crossed the threshold from “young adult” to “old as fuck” I always feel extremely young of mind. As in, there are countless emotional accolades I have yet to achieve. I’ve always been a bit slower to process emotional information and understand the repercussions.

Honestly there is a continual and residual feeling of “I’m not good enough” which I’m trying to logically combat. I feel like for a long time I have said that everything is transient and ever-changing. I know these things to be true and so… I wait. I wait for the moment in which he will stop loving me, the moment in which he will stop wanting to caress or kiss me. I just feel like such a flawed individual that the transience of any affection towards me will come sooner rather than later. Relying on someone other than myself is extremely hard to do because people are simply disappointing, eventually.

I am precariously torn between rushing in and backing away; I want everything, and all at once – but as soon as something is had, perhaps no longer wanted? And so wanting this feeling to last, I am hesitant to dive in all the way for fear of its going away that much faster. I guess the life lesson here is to enjoy things while they last because nothing is permanent.

Anyway. What I’m really trying to say is that I love my boyfriend. Cue immediate wincing because revealing emotions like this feels akin to peeling back a small amount of skin and exposing it to the winds. I almost feel embarrassed at feeling. I did just mention my emotional youth yeah?

How I got lucky enough to find anyone to love me is beyond me… let alone the fact he’s supremely sweet, caring, romantic, thoughtful as fuck, and just… everything I could need in a partner. Cue eyes rolling at how typical a girl in love I sound. I guess I just always supposed that a partnership was both beyond me and beneath me — as a protective measure. The walls come down and the defenses are low… Hence the recent crying and general emotional sensitivity.

Also… I just stumbled upon this quote at random and now my writing and entire blog post is suddenly verbose and “not quite good enough.” Apropos. Touché, dear Internet.

“But love is much like a dam: if you allow a tiny crack to form through which only a trickle of water can pass, that trickle will quickly bring down the whole structure, and soon no one will be able to control the force of the current. For when those walls come down, then love takes over, and it no longer matters what is possible or impossible; it doesn’t even matter whether we can keep the loved one at our side. To love is to lose control.”
Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

I’m going to stop writing now. All the things have been said before.

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