journal entry — march 4th, 2025
I let you into my room, I let you into my heart, whatever, whatever. I loved you, and probably still do, because love is what flies in the face of all reason and better judgment. Love is what you can’t explain and sometimes hate.
This is a nonexistent distinction I’m about to make, but I have this feeling that love is feverish and shivering and readily combustible…love is volatile and uneasy but it is not uncertain. Life is uncertain. Life is uncertain because it’s the only way for us to find new ways and do new things and grow into new people and what have you.
Love is not uncertain. You were. You were the life of my love, the cool, gray-blue anchor amidst my violent, bloody, sparkling waves. You were the life of my love, but I was the love of your life. I was red, burning up under your touch and unreasonably, magnetically drawn to your unthinking presence, dangerously compelled to your every careless word.
Before this I was steady, or I thought I was, and now I’m crazy and I hate talking to people when I feel like there’s a parasite in my brain making everything about everything else and nothing real except you. Unaffected, unchanging, uncharmed. But I’m vulnerable to addiction.
And I’ll continue to extricate myself from the not-so-invisible string that seems to have bound us together, and realize that I can still keep changing. It turns out, I did have life (unantonymous to love) before you and I will have it after you. Uncertainty and all. Because I will be the person who uses her whole life. Well.
The Dilemma Of It All 