Unexpected in The First Life

It’s early morning.
My body is up by 3am but my mind is far behind.
I’m playing catch up on the day before.
Hours burning fast, caught up in sunlight and different eyes.
There is a part of my heart that feels guilt.
I didn’t mean to be where I am.
I wanted to be alone, I wanted my home and my dogs and nothing else.
I stayed in. I was responsible. I focused my energies on only things that benefit me. My drive was internalized.
I guess when I finally accepted the things I need, those things were able to find me.
I know how it seems.
I held on to an idea for so long, when it was realized, I started falling. The bottom came quick. The chaos was more than what I wanted, the drop made me sick.
Me, in a world of things I made happen for myself, in a home I created, surrounded by things I fought for…could not rest with someone that could not do that for themself.
When things break I don’t want anyone else to fix it, I don’t attempt to crawl into someone else’s safety. But it wasn’t always like that. You have to burn a couple of times before you can make your own hearth.

So…
I’ve got my thoughts on a leash.
While they wake, going over every detail over and over, I tug at them to come back. To be present.
To not think of gentle eyes.
To not think of stronger hands.
For once, I want to know someone else’s story. I feel lost in learning. My attention is set and not wandering, not restless. Everything seems sharp, clear, quick.

Know that I’m sorry to say any of this, but this is my space.
I worry I’ll wake again on another day and not feel the same.
That my feelings are thin and change quick, that maybe it wasn’t instability and lack of drive that made my heart stop.
I don’t like hurting people.

Maybe I’ve just learned when to quit, and when it won’t work.