love

     When I say that I'm afraid of the future, particularly as it relates to my romantic life, I feel that it is firstly residual anxiety withheld from my relationship with [S.S]; but more importantly, a lack of understanding love and the fear that arises from that lack of understanding. After being depressed at the farm, I no longer feel a tightness in my chest closely associated with anxiety -- a tightness in my chest that I however associate with my first feelings of love for any other person, for [M.M]. When I know I'm in love, however I could, I don't feel that tightness in my chest -- and that makes me nervous, or possibly sad; that contrast, that lack of clarity towards its absence, makes me chase the question, as unhealthy as it may be to dwindle so.

I feel like I don't need to understand love, but even just saying that upsets me because carnally I seek to know. That and the language used to make that statement is still reminiscent of the language I used at the time to justify to myself dating [S.S] I suppose it is perhaps only that bit of residual worry leftover that is stuck to the phrase, as opposed to what used to be a subconscious recognition that I didn't mean it when I said it. I mean it this time, but every time I say it or I say that I mean it I do feel nervous -- I am asked, what if I don't mean it? 

But I'm not unexcited for love just because I'm scared. Rather, I chase love as a paragon of my spiritual beliefs. Chance and love -- as the aspects of life -- are inescapable, and I love them both. I just mean by all this that while I love, and long to feel and experience it, it is scary to me for reasons beyond my reach of influence; I can do nothing about the meteor I ride, burning with blinding speed, burning me as it travels.