Everything is Simple

Little Bitch

Sometimes life complicates. Sometimes, the past decisions of people I’ll never know are binding on the quality of my own existence.

But, this circumstance is much like a double-sided paddle. Either we can keep using one side — forever finding yourself going in circles in the middle of the ocean; or, we can use both sides of the paddle and eventually make it to a shore.

Sometimes, it takes a little bit of debauchery to refocus on the cards life had dealt to realize that we have a pretty good hand.

You see, I’m a Virgo. And, as such, I tend to over-analyze things to a fault. I’ve also let my guard down so many times, recently, that I might as well have just removed it altogether. When these two, put together, combine with any sort of emotional anguish, everything seems terrible. It’s like those moments before you finally fall into slumber, but all day long.

Now, I’m not an alcoholic, but I will engage in a nice bit of drinking once every few months. The last time, I was celebrating my graduation from college. This time, Friday night, I was celebrating the end of a very long work week and a very taxing emotional week. If you’ve read my personal posts or poems, you probably know that I’m way too in touch with my “feelings” for a guy.

Anyway, I had quite a bit of alcohol on Friday night — under the supervision of a very good friend — and I was able to kind of let go and refocus. I was able to step away from the high definition lens I was looking at everything through and saw the beauty of the 8mm film that is my life and its associations.

I had made some pretty sound and dramatic choices/statements on Thursday, but after my night of reflection (while bombing cars like an Irishman, etc.), I was able to redefine my stance and admit that “I was being a little bitch” about it all. Granted, I probably wouldn’t have chosen that specific wording had I not just watched Kevin Hart: I’m a Grown Little Man.

In all seriousness, I was reacting to an overabundance of emotion. I was sleep deprived, devastated, and thinking much more than I should have been.

I’m still crazy about her, but I can accept that right now is not a good time for either one of us. And because I care so deeply for her, I am willing to put those feelings in a safe place, for the time being.

Al Gore would call it a lock box. Kurt Cobain might have called it a Heart-Shaped Box.

I’ll call it a Heart-Shaped Lock Box.