Ataraxia.

Love with urgency but not with haste.

Month: December, 2014

Incurably Happy

(Incurably Happy)

I have, without regard for reason or logic, a sense of unextinguishable hope. It flutters within me, tickles me, cradles me. Drags me out of bed in the morning and drenches me in sunshine. Makes me laugh when I have no heart to, gives me strength when I am miserable, teases me when I am mad. Holds my hand in the rain or in the dark or in the cold. Fills me with bliss, relentlessly, patiently.

Makes me unafraid, even of my most formidable fears, the ones that put me to shame and leaden my feet. Emboldens me, arouses my greatest passions and renews my faith in a new day, day after day. I want to spend all my sunrises, sunsets, moonrises, darkness and dawn, just like this. With my most favorite voice in the universe, like rumbling waves on the shore, lulling me to sleep at night and luring me awake with the sun.

At any moment, I am unconsciously compelled to smile, at the mere thought of together.
I am hopeful, my heart, full.

I am incurably happy. Ridiculously so.

Terminally Afraid

(Terminally Afraid)

Like a shadow passing over me. Quick, brief, dark. Other times, like a well. Deep, hidden, cold.

Like incessant whisperings beside my ear, like a sinking anchor, tugging at the bottom of my heart.

Afraid that I will only be a mere shadow of what once was. Afraid that I may not even cast a shadow once I’ve passed. I’m afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of being swallowed up, by the dark, by your past, by the world, by my future. I’m afraid of myself, that I will never ever be enough. I am afraid that time will only show me how I crumble into dust.

It makes me laugh, how afraid I am. I wonder if it’s the nervous kind of laughter that makes everyone in the room uncomfortable. Or does it mean I win, or that I’ve given up, or I just have a sense of humor?

(What’s the next step after accepting your fears? It’s supposed to be confrontation, I think, but I really am petrified when it comes to the things I’m afraid of, just like I’m supposed to be.)

Is it fight or flight?

(But I’m no fighter.) But flight just seems cowardly, and I wouldn’t even know in which direction to run when my fears are all inside of me.

I want to embrace my fears and make them my friends. I want to be brave.

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