The past few days, the weather has been indecisive. The sky has been perfectly blue except for the black clouds, swollen with rain, that sit separate and singular throughout it. It’s not just that rain has come and gone. It’s that the weather has been different on opposite sides of the same street. It has rained on me while sunshine gleamed ahead, and vice versa. If that’s not a metaphor for life, I don’t know what is.
I feel things really deeply. It’s a blessing and a curse. I take everything to heart, and then I keep it there. I carry it with me always. I’m not good at letting things go, though the world insists I must, though wisdom tells me I should. I don’t really know how.
I can’t reason my way out of emotions, as much as I’ve tried, as much as I continue to try, as much as I wish that I could. I can’t talk my way out of love or out of hurt. I can’t argue my way into happiness, out of sadness. I can’t pretend I feel differently than I do, even if I want to, even if I shut my eyes really tight and wish and wish and wish…I’ve never been good at fiction.
I’ve never actually gotten over anything, though time has taught me to move forward. All of the good and all of the bad has stayed with me. It has shaped me. It has given weight to my life. It has made it heavy.
And that heaviness has felt both as deep and pure as sunshine, and as dark and ominous as rain soaked clouds. It has felt that way both separately and simultaneously. It has changed from moment to moment. It has been as indecisive as the weather.
It was one of those days when I laughed and I cried and at times I couldn’t distinguish where one ended and the next began. Sometimes I smile when I give bad news. Sometimes I tear up when I’m really, really happy. There’s no way to explain this. I’m just very full.
I walk through this world with everything. I carry so much joy and so much sadness that sometimes the lines between them get blurred. Nothing is as simple as a single definition. Life is far too complex for that.
My love for the world can destroy me. It is also what saves me. And at times when I’ve wished I could feel less, I’ve also hoped to never have that wish come true. I don’t know how to stop loving. I don’t know how to stop feeling. I don’t know how to stop carrying the weight of each moment within me. I don’t know if I want to.
I do know that the heart is just a muscle. It pumps blood, that’s all. My body is just science. It does what it’s supposed to do. But my feelings are unpredictable. They are as confusing and beautiful as rain in sunshine and sunshine in rain.
And although I saw no rainbows today, it’s another good metaphor for life, for my life, that I could still feel an entire spectrum of colors.