Cheers Darlin'

When does an idea become an out of control obsession?
It sneaks up on you. The focus in your life becomes askew.
Close your eyes.
Who is there?
The fabric of our lives is made up of one emotion.
Love
Even in extreme Hate we are loving.
For Hate is Love turned inside out.

I feel like I am lost in a jello mold. I am neither above nor below the surface. Normally I know exactly how I feel. I am either on the top of the world; or I am scratching away at the bottom of a black hole. Right now I am floating between emotions.

I hate uncertainty. I know I will wake up tomorrow and be uncertain. About everything.

I am my own worst enemy. Because the love I am speaking of is not the love you share with someone else. It is the love that must exist inside of yourself. I tend to question it all the time. And the uncertainty that I mentioned, that is the uncertainty of my own abilities. Some days I am able to think my way out of a bad situation. These situations start out as seeds of doubt in my own head. These seeds nourish themselves by my own insecurities. When they grow they weave themselves into moments of otherwise happy memories.

Laughing with my sister.

Sitting with my parents and talking.

Nights out with my friends.

Quiet times when Jimmy just looks at me and smiles.

All of these moments become tainted when I start to question the love I have for myself. But now I am faced with losing a matriarch in my family. My Nana. Other than the loss I will feel from losing her because she is my grandmother, I fear I am going to mourn more over love lost.

My Nana grew up in dire conditions. Her mother was cold and distant towards her. So was her father. The only man she ever 'knew' took even more of her spirit away. I was never close to her growing up. She was always hard on me. She always put me down about my weight. She was never happy to see me.

But through all of that I found a lost soul. I mourn for the potential. She could of lived epically. She could have loved enormously. But she didn't. She loved in vain. She criticized. She could never be pleased. She was always indifferent.

So why do I cry for her loss? Because I am afraid it will become my own loss. I am afraid I will lose the ability to love myself. What if I can't think my way out of another situation? I do not want to become calloused. I want love to flow through me freely. I want to filled to the brim with emotion. Whether they be good or bad. Because without the emotional connection to this life, indifference seem to be the only option. If that were to be so, then my understanding of my Nana's life will have become unimportant.