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There's something about holding everything inside of you that is both secretly intoxicating and absolutely terrifying.
I can only relate it to the stomach dropping feeling when you think something went terribly wrong, or the selfish pride you feel when you're the only one who knows the answer to something that has been asked to a roomful of people. I think it can be categorized as something that you and only you can understand or interpret.

Why do I crave to spill my guts one second, then want to soak in my secrecy and run away and hide? I would give anything to understand every centimeter of all the emotions in my life right now. I have two hands, yet I feel like I need ten to carry all of this. I know I could tell ten people who could help me carry (metaphor, folks) but I can't. I can hardly make anything of it out on my own.

I'm not scared. I just want answers.
Yet I'm sick of feeling selfish for wanting answers, and wanting them now. I just don't get it.

And even more so, what comes of these dual emotions of secrecy and hiding? Am I going to just combust and word vomit on one lucky soul and learn my lesson then? I would rather feel nothing at all than feel an ounce of the good or bad that I'm currently trying to understand. Apathy was easy, and now it's old. You can only ignore the reality of the status of things for so long. I don't want to have to be apathetic, can't it just go away, or am I the one who has to keep running?
I could write myself awesome verses and meaningful Godly points that go right along with my frustrations, I know I can. But sometimes you just need to let go, just a little bit. He's carrying my burden, but I'm still human. I still hurt and stress.

It's been over a year bifffle, I miss you. He reminds me of you, so incredibly much. I'm jealous. I'm sick. I don't trust you. You've made me second guess everything. I blame myself. I have no passion anymore, and it is absolutely your fault. No, I am not mean, I have the decency to say what I am actually thinking, and mean it. I want to be in the Philippines now, more than I ever had. I don't want it to be my escape though, I want it to remain my calling. No one peed in my cheerios this morning, I'm just trying to be realistic. You make it hard for me to believe in love. I'm afraid I'm a cynic.