Desperation.

I hold on so tight, sometimes so hard that my knuckles turn white and my closed eyes show an expression of desperation. It can all go away in any given moment, just like it never happened, turn sour like a packet of milk, never to be drunk again. I know this because I've been there, many times on the giving end, but only once on the receiving. There is nothing worse, standing there seconds after it happened, wondering what to do next...

But I do not dwell on these things often now a days, not like I used to. I used to completely consume myself with the idea of heart break, until it became the only thing I had. But now, I just live in a constant state of content, without manic episodes where I uproot my life and ruin everyone I know. I feel satisfied and fulfilled, calm, almost tranquil...