We just have so many days in our lives. And we're never going to know how many that is. I just told my mom today, "you only get one day at a time, you can't take them all together." And that is the truth. But we plan our lives in chunks. We plan that we're suppose to get married and then we'll have kids and then we'll buy houses and redecorate them and buy new cars and a lawn mower. But we never really know what to expect. And yet we all get disappointed at some point or another when things don't "work out" the way we expected our LIVES to go. So I've been nibbling a little at this notion of days. And it kinda feels good.
The truth is - it feels kinda good to be bad. And tomorrow I'm going to take 1 day out of my life to spend with my ex. To have sex. And rather than imagining the days of turmoil that it may cause after, all I can think about is that moment in time. And yes, it might not be the healthiest thing I could do - but I have certainty, something fierce, that it's the right thing to do. And since I've been thinking about it, I have managed to feel more alive and in the moment for a whole 24 hours longer than I can remember. Suddenly I'm living my life day by day. Who knows what's going to happen?! (Don't say it -The bliss of hormones and adrenaline is just what this body needs to create temporary amnesia (or insanity) of what "could" happen after our rendez-vouz.) I swear to god it's love addiction. It's true. Love is addicting. It makes me feel like anything is possible and life is grande. Lines blur and nothing exists but today.
Crazy or love obsessed or not - I'm holding on to my day to day revelation and letting it all in as much as possible before my brain gets chunked back into the grind of our social outlines - or my heart is crushed into a million pieces when endorphines subside and that asshole turns back into the pumpkin he is. I'm getting fucked damn it and then life goes on.