I need to write. I need to write like I need to breathe. Suddenly, vividly--the severity of writing overcomes my being and there is no greater need on the planet--no thirst, no hunger--greater than my need to say the words crashing around in my mind.
So much has happened. So much has happened in such a short period of time and my soul soars as much as it aches. My heart beats as much as it breaks. My mind races as hard as it sleeps. And I just don't know whether to laugh or cry. To run screaming or pour a glass of champagne. To write that paper due in my business class or write this blog entry that hardly anyone will read.
Life is quickly changing all around me. The people close to me, and not so close to me; are getting engaged, getting married, getting pregnant. Suddenly I am no longer sixteen playing Taylor Swift songs on my guitar on a Friday night. Suddenly I'm a senior in college, making no money at all, and planning a beautiful wedding to the man I love. Suddenly my friends are no longer talking about the boys they have a crush on and are instead showing off the ring those boys used to propose. Instead showing pictures of the sonograms of the human being they created with those boys. The human being that will grow to be sixteen and two seconds later, twenty-five.
When did I blink? Why, when I know this isn't true, do I feel like I woke up this morning and my world went from black and white to bright, vivid color? A color that both fascinates and nauseates me. A color that enriches and cripples me. A color that instills both passion and fear inside of me. A color that I'm swimming in, dancing in, crying in, laughing in, drinking in.
It's never enough and all too much at exactly the same time. With a life this exciting, how do we ever feel pain? With a life this painful, how do we ever feel joy?
In the past 6 months I've had some of my highest highs, and my lowest lows. My lows haven't stemmed from my relationship with my fiancé, but you would love to think that, wouldn't you? Whoever you are. No. They have stemmed from a life of forming a habit of letting my mind tell my heart it isn't good enough. They've stemmed from a sudden waking up and seeing color. They've stemmed from the belief that I am fucking good enough and I won't let anyone tell me any different and people don't like that.
They don't like that at all.
I'm tired and I'm wide-awake. The black and white I was used to is fading and I'm finally seeing in color. I'm so fucking happy and so very heart-sad all at once. I could say I don't know why, but I do. And so do you, don't you?
And I need to write. I need to write like I need to breathe.
