It’s amazing how many emotions you can feel at once. Things happen and somehow you have this never ending capacity to feel things. And sometimes, relative to the situation, you just want to turn them all off.
It’s so easy to get immersed in one thing and lose grip of a part of yourself, to get attached to someone if you give it a chance. You get used to an idea and then when it doesn’t work out, you can feel it. There’s a part missing... it’s not that it was always missing and temporarily got filled it’s that that idea made space for itself within you and you got used to it. But when it’s gone, you’ve got this space that shouldn’t be there, that wasn’t naturally there. You didn’t ask for it, or plan it, it happened, and it was beautiful while it lasted.
But this isn’t unique, it’s typical. Cliche.
And you can feel every emotion under the sun and go through the motions, like sitting in a dark room watching your fingers type feelings you theoretically know you shouldn’t broadcast, but it’s just like every other story.
The worst part is not knowing which emotion you should let take over... sadness is pretty naturally prevalent, anger is more bearable, but for some reason you know it’s not fair to be mad or bitter or distrustful because there’s still love.
But I guess you realise, at the end of it all, you’ve learned a whole lot about yourself and you can decide there and then whether you want to re-create parts of yourself...
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two." -St. Augustine