By Jemma Burgess
So I was told that love feels like your dying without actually being dead which I don’t think is true. Love Is euphoric, it’s mind-blowingly electric and if or when you find it, if you find someone or something to love then I salute you. It is the absence of love that feels like dying without actually being dead. It’s a physical pain that sort of lingers without your knowledge. A crack in your being that no matter how much effort you put in filling it with different things, it never seems to glue itself back together. Well at least at the start. I’m sure after time scar tissue will form and hopefully make it a little bit stronger. You will be that little bit stronger. However, I don’t think it is ever the same. Not if it was real love. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know. I haven’t got to that part yet.
I have a lot of energy but I know I can sometimes be quite reserved. I like to think this is me recharging because when I do give my energy to someone, it pours out of me. I give everything, every ounce of me to you, in order to make your world ten times better. More exciting, more electric, as if a rush of wind has scooped you up effortlessly. I wonder why though, I get so tired when it’s not given back or when it’s been taken advantage of. Like I’m not good enough to receive it. It’s like you’ve given a piece of yourself to someone and they’ve damaged it, or decided that it’s theirs and put that piece of you in a box and they’ve locked that box under their bed to look back on in years to come and reminisce about the girl that decided she was better than how you treated her. To combat this part of me that seems gone I make a lot of inappropriate jokes, mostly about myself. It’s a defence mechanism I think. A little pick me up. To make me laugh. To remind me that it isn’t the end of the world, that I’ve got this. I know confidence and belief in myself will come back, I am just healing at the moment and that’s okay.
Anyway, I’ve decided that I’m fucking amazing so…..that’s that.