Velocity: Why I Must be in Constant Motion

Dear Brain,

Please quit thinking on a concious level, if only for five seconds. Thanks.

Love, Candace

There is something in my brain that makes me over analyze everything . It only happens at the most inconvenient times, I believe. I wish it would stop.

I’m fine until I stop moving and take the time to think. Then the cycling begins. The Cycle of Things That Really Frustrate Me. Or The Cycle of Things That Really Upset Me.

Problem 1: If I stop moving, I begin to process things the wrong way. Solution1: Stay in constant motion.

I occupy my time with work, school, books, paint, music, sleep, counting tiles on the floor, counting stairs, balancing my checking account in my head to test my memory(it’s not that good), ect. Useless stuff. Pointless things. All to keep from facing reality.

And is reality that scary? Hell yes, it is. It’s terrifying. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I’m not that good at this reality thing, this whole facing things realistically, this actuality.

An object in motion will stay in motion until acted on by an outside force.

Outside force being a stupid pair of big brown eyes that never fail to make me feel small and fragile, but precious just the same. Or a unanimous scream of frustration and discontent from family. Or I may just stop walking and reality sneaks up behind me and punches me in the kidneys. I mean, we all know how that goes.

Problem 2: Reality is an outside force stopping my velocity like a fly bouncing off of a window. Solution: ?

I’m a wimp. I can barely squish a spider on my own. I’m just scared of everything.

So, my solution 2: Let it go, grow up, and get a move on. Think, feel, hurt, live, love, lose, win, scream, cry, laugh, but most importantly, let it go. Just let it all go.

And speaking of letting it go…

You’ve been tugging on my heart for ages, and you’re pulling it in two. If you had any idea how I much I want to be in your arms, I believe you might just hold me and never let me go. Or at least, I’d love to believe that. I’d also love to believe every word you’ve ever told me. I’m not one to throw the word love around lightly. I only say it when I mean it. I meant it. I know you didn’t. Or maybe you thought you did, whatever. I would turn the world upside down for you, rearrange the stars to your whim, give you every part of my heart. I think you’re fantasic, you’re funny, and you know exactly what I’m thinking without me saying a word. I understand you like no one before. You know that, and you’re scared. I also think that you will never be happy with someone else until you are happy with yourself. I’ve waited and, patiently,  watched our relationship grow and ebb like a predictable tide. But like the tide, this is dangerous. It’s dragging me under and I cannot breathe. So, I’m fighting my way to the surface. For every time you’ve held my hand in the dark, every time you kissed me and told me everything was going to be ok, every time you lied, every time you broke my heart and patched it back up, for every time single time you told me you would be there and weren’t, I am closing a part of my heart. And yes, it hurts. Dear God, it feels like someone is squeezing my heart in thier fist, making the tears pour out and my lungs seize up, but some where inside I know this is right. I can feel it. I love you, but I can’t love you like this.

This is what happens when I stop to think. I am running from the pain and I will never become a stronger person if I keep bouncing off of the window. I’ve got to make it to the open door.