Everytime recollections of past hurt re-ignite, the familiar vulnerability takes another visit down pain's lane. Emotions are foolish lee-ways of complacency - a type that overlooks all roughs of journeys towards staunch control. Even if they are not, emotions seem to play the leading roles of liabilities more than any single mentionable form of comfort. Too long have I been evading matters of the heart, and my complete control has been a form of favourite comfort. It took three trying months to get past constant wantings to ruin myself, to finally have me composed to this safe and confident person that makes me now.

Tonight, I am being reminded of a brokenness not too distant. I am weak, because I have loosened my grip of that control. This how being capable of profoundly feeling plagues me.