One day older and nearer to my lord...

I think it's fascinating to conceptualize the idea a person making you want to live one day, and making you want to die the next, without your feelings for them even changing. The things you end up doing over someone who is simply being. At this point I try to see my emotions in retrospect, and intellectualize the worst parts of the imbalance. It's too easy to place blame. It's too simple to blame a girl for a panic attack. It's intellectually lazy. I think retrospection helps me write. When you're in the throes of obsession, burning in the initial sparks, your opinion of them and yourself and how those two personalities relate to each other is altered by a kind of stupidity called blind love. Afterwards, for me at least, you can more objectively analyze, interpret and thusly articulate your feelings and why they exist, even though you may never fully understand. This makes me think of my old man and what he might say, and I think an important lesson I haven't fully come to terms with is his ability to accept misunderstanding. Sometimes even in retrospect it's impossible to understand the way someone feels. Eventually you just realize that maybe your feelings and actions, and those of another, might not make any sense. That's because love (and it's bizarre emotional cousins, so to speak) doesn't make any sense. It doesn't adhere to geography or time structures or societal constrains. It just is. So sometimes you find yourself drunk and alone with sad bastard music on repeat, and it doesn't make any sense. But that's okay.