Written April 2016 and published 3 years on
48 hours.
The vulnerability is tearing me apart. This depth of feeling is not something I have experienced with this level of intensity in years. I forgot how this felt. I forgot the feeling of falling, with all its fear and helplessness, where you look around you for something to hold onto and turn towards everything externally for guidance because internally you’re lost.
I haven’t felt lost in so long. 48 hours and I’ve gleaned this much. I’m torn between running and diving. The timing could not be worse. I’m desperate for perspective, but perspective requires time and time is what I feel I don’t have because there are things that I need to do right now. Things that require the calm, not the storm.
What is this torrent I am in? Why do I feel so confined? How can I overcome this fear of being hurt? Do I continue to talk to you? Do I stop altogether? Will I see you again? Will my frontal lobe trump my limbic system or will it be the other way?
This is a fire that is both consuming and addictive. I played with it. It has burnt me already. But it hasn’t burnt you. It won’t burn you.
Stop, Gowri. Just stop before you get hurt.
She paints with words 