Emoting...

I hate having emotions.

A fav author of mine once made the comparison of her young self to a giant, sloshing milk filled breast. Meaning, she was so chock full of nurturing compassion and oodles of love she could've exploded; except that she had no one to give it to.

That's how I feel sometimes. I have love. Much love. But I have no one to give it to and that makes me sad.

Hate sad. It's so... not happy. Ha.

Emotions are so dang pesky. I wish I could be rid of mine, with the exception of when it comes to my kids. I wonder can I train myself not to have emotions about anything or anyone except for my children?

When I was in my teens I was indifferent. Didn't care, nothing mattered, dark, despair... a bomb could go off next to me and blow off my left tit and I wouldn't have given two fucks. But didn't we feel that way at that age? No? Just me?

From age 18-20 I'd had a couple of heartbreaks (and rapes) under my belt and I was no longer indifferent. I was a ruthless, cold hearted, down right mean bitch. I dated, I dropped them and didn't give a damn about anyone. I wanted to hurt guys just as much as they hurt me. I wanted to lead them on, turn them on, fuck them stupid and get up and walk away without a backward glance. And I did. Many times. And the insanely funny thing is that I warned each and every guy how this "thing" would work. And each and every guy just knew that he would be different. He would be the one to change things. He would make the ice on my heart melt. And all those "he"'s were dead ass wrong.

But the moment I became pregnant with Jaalyn at age 23 all that changed. All the ice melted off my heart and the moment she entered my arms and turned and looked at me as I first uttered her name I was hooked on this love thing. I never knew you could feel such an intense love for another human being in such a short period of time. And since the Love flood gate was open, I left it that way; thinking that I could get to like this intensity elsewhere in my life.

Not. A. Fucking. Chance. In. HELL.

My God Almighty. I know this much is true: Love hurts. A helluva lot. And even when you think it's gone from your heart for good, even when you try your damnedest to turn it off, you can't.

Or maybe I am not trying hard enough? Right now, I hate loving someone that doesn't love me back. I am sick of loving another woman's man/men. I HATE LOVE. Period. It sucks.

So maybe I should give the cold hearted chick another try, eh? Maybe I should return to those grass roots, dig a little deeper and make sure the roots go down much, much farther so that they can't be removed. Maybe I should build up my impregnable wall of strength, double checking for cracks and let no one in. Except my girls. Sloshing milk filled breast for those two for sure.

But for anyone else? I don't think so. I'm starting to think that cold, mean, bitch is the way to go. Certainly the way to protect the heart. Certainly.