Power Overwhelming

What is it about life that's so satisfying right now? Sure, the same old problems are about, but they seem more manageable. I'm still pancreas-deep in debt, racked by my unfulfilled desires, and no less at odds with the way the world works, but I feel like my life is more mine than it's been in ages. I've been a bit more honest lately and I lost a little weight, what of it? Without something a tad more substantial to measure my success, I suspect this sudden self-satisfaction may be just an upswing on my cycle of moods, but I'll be damned if it isn't a great one. Even if I only feel good for now, the boost in personal, internal productivity is way up. I'm braver, I no longer feel like I have to stumble over myself making up for my failings, and I'm mastering my body, one step at a time.

Strength seems to be a characteristic that was always important for me, and to which I never paid enough attention. My father taught me to always be strong, and his weakness of both body and character shocked and disturbed me. My own strength surprises me whenever I can be bothered to consider it. I no longer entertain thoughts of suicide even at my saddest, and I've all but come right out and stated my romantic intentions. And yet, I have to wonder at my real strength. I seem to have survived a great deal and come out relatively undamaged. But is this strength, or the cowardly act of never putting my heart out there where it can be harmed? Being an apparent romantic, my tendency is to believe, or want to believe, I've risked much, lost much, and won more overall. But how strong can my heart be if I've practically never known the feeling of being overcome by my emotions? Am I too strong to be overtaken be even myself, or do I have a shallow soul, incapable of the kinds of feelings that overwhelm a person?

You make my life so very difficult, dammit. You make me feel more out-of-control than anything else. If it isn't out-and-out meanness, it's a minor, insistent torment staged in such a way that even I'm not sure whether it's intentional, or just the natural consequences of our discourse. If it be intentional, I must praise your skill at manipulating me, and if not, remain dumbstruck at your ability to surprise me. Which do you play at, devil, or angel; serpent or saint? Either way, every minute's a challenge. I'll get you yet, just you wait and see.