I have been questioning my ability to really feel at the far end of the emotional spectrum, the black and white of feelings. I have loved, but I question whether or not I have "really" loved. I have disliked, but I don't know that I have ever hated. I am beginning to believe that my gray emotions are the reason that I am attracted to women and friends that are passionate and that bring their colors into my world.
I need people to fill the holes.
I am drawn to these people.
That is why I was so drawn to her. She is passion. While I sit in the middle, she is the extremes. She came to me when I was stuck somewhere, when I felt neither happy nor sad. She smashed holes in my walls and reminded me of the possibilities. She was my heroin who took me to new heights and deeper depths saving me from a supposed dullness that I believed had crept in and taken over my life. I can't say that I have ever felt or had feelings with or for anyone that I had with her. That was her gift to me and perhaps it saved me. Looking back and seeing the waves that rocked my world, I am starting to see the ocean again.
For all of the storms, for all of the black, there were moments of sunshine and yellows and reds that were nearly blinding. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was all me or all her, or maybe she was right when she once told me that I couldn't handle a Sagittarius. I don't know yet. As with all experiences, though, I have grown and learned.
I have seen the extremes and now I am in a weird place where the colors are there and I feel like I can place them where I want and when I want, but I am scared. I am always scared. I have found a safety in myself that is comforting. I am in my house and I am piecing my life together while I piece together the remnants of this building where I broke myself. I plan to paint walls and fix holes and fill in the spaces that could use a little something and I feel like I am doing the same thing to myself, just with infinitely more caution. An chair can be moved, a painting hung on a wall and no one is hurt by the change. My fickle heart has hurt and has been hurt enough times that the thought of letting someone in is frightening on so many levels. But the colors are there and someone new has brought her own pallet and I like what she has.
She has fire, but she has calm. She has passion, but it ebbs and flows and fills in the spaces slowly and leaves quietly. She does things for me with out needing anything in return. I give to her and she accepts, but does not take. Her colors are bright, but easy on the eyes.
So where do I go now?
I keep taking careful, premeditated steps so that I don't fall again. My heart isn't ready. I know that. As much as I say that I am not ready to give myself to someone, I am not ready to see her go either. There is comfort in knowing that she is around and in my life. I need comfort. But I still need space and I still need time. It is a balance that I feel like I have to maintain. At the same time I know that I have to get over it and to lighten up. This sabotage that I am so fond of, the one where I over think everything and plot and have a relationship in my head, is a challenge for me to avoid.
It is confusing.
With all of my fears and uncertainties, I do know that I am not scared of her. That is an amazing thing. It lets me know that I am not as emotionally fucked up as I was. I also know that I am comfortable with her and that I like being around her. As simple as these things are, they are complicated and difficult for a damaged heart. I don't know what is next, and I am not really planning. I am not ready yet. But I know that I am getting there. I am finding my footing and am beginning to feel something other than down.
I still don't know if I feel in extremes (or why I thought writing this would tell me). I don't know how important that is either. I know that I have had a few moments where I felt the warmth of my passion stirring and it is that warmth that reminds me that there is still a whole spectrum of things for me to feel. Knowing now that I don't have to feel all of them all the time is a burden off my shoulders and a huge step forward for me. I felt that way once and it was one piece amongst a handful that pushed me over a scary edge. We all love the warmth of a fire, but do we need to jump into it? I like blue, but do I want it on every wall in my house? It all seems to come back to the balance. Balance in feeling, balance in life, balance in color. Balance in all things.
My challenge now is balancing myself and the new relationships in my life and painting my walls to balance each other.
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