Random Channel Surfing

Meeting him was a calm sea after the storm. the quiet moments after a gun blast. Meeting him was the salve for her burn. the refreshing cool water trickling down her trachea. Meeting him, meeting him, meeting him. She was the raging sea -- waves crashing, tide rising, despair and moaning washing onto shore. She was the pulling of the trigger -- taut, then unwound, the crash, the boom, the crackle and thunder. She was burning, pining,  desperate for him. She was parched, thirsty,  needing his sustenance in her life. He was all this and more. She  was all this and more.

I have a hard time accepting things as they happen. I have a tendency of overthinking and analyzing and fantasizing and assuming that I know the way things will play out. I don't; no one does. But I am introspective and that tendency of being so self-reflective makes it hard for me to let things unfold as they must. I love to be in control and I love to anticipate how things will pan out. I need to prepare myself--mentally, emotionally, physically--for any and all outcomes. Blame it on my penchant for being hyper-focused on reigning in my emotions; blame it on my fear of change; blame it on any number of things. But if there's one thing I've learned since last March, it's that, even when you have an inkling of what's about to happen, when it happens, you have no fucking clue how to handle it. No matter how much you prepare and how many permutations of the scenario you anticipate, the reality still knocks you upside the head, leaving you dizzy and vulnerable.

A lot of stuff is going down and it's going down fast. I'm flustered and angry and more than a little confused, but I know I'll get out of whatever hole I've created. After all, year 31 was the Year of Great Changes (it's what I'm calling it now... fucking 2017), so that should mean that year 32 will be easy-peasy. Right? 2018 has to be better. It just has to be. Why is being a human so hard?