if you're happy where you are, what does it matter?
the sentence "i am happy" actually rolls off my tongue without slight hesitation. of course there are always things to make & do (homage to an old U2 song), but yes, happiness. i found some.
there are parts of me, though, that will always fixate beyond that. i continue to re-wound myself, over and over - about everything. is it because there's nothing better to do? is it to have something to write with? (past tragedies make such great tools...) is it because i am a true masochist?
or maybe i just don't like letting go...of anything.
i both love and despise change.
and it's true: i am. changing.
i don't want to forget. i don't want to forget how i got here. what i lost & what i gained.
i don't want to ever become truly jaded...and i don't want to lose that one last spark of naivete.
i guess i'll spend the rest of my life balancing between the two...