Postpartum Obsession

well here we go again, another reckless example of the chaos in my life. if i could let go of what happened: the love lost, the days wasted, the hurt incurred. but i can't. i recede into this preliminary start of catatonia when i even begin to think of my so-called ex lovers. my jealously still burns like no other for one, because for almost as long as he's been away from me, he's had someone else to abuse. and he's happy. i despise it; it's not what he deserves. bitter, bitter, bitter, girl; i should know better. but when i'm here failing miserably at attaining something even marginally meaningful, what am i supposed to feel? i'm sure damn well not going to be supportive of him. then what of my summer beau: avoidance lately, but that's how it is when you miss someone. and to the best of my knowledge, he does. my pool for selection has run dry it seems. the only fish that swim my way aren't fit for even the cheapest sardines. casual relations can sound all the more enticing when the prospects are so unconditionally dim. but i cling to the hope that there's better, and maybe even great, things coming along. so my optimism is no where near a high, yet i've got some hopes. my love life is no more in shambles than my home life. tired of the berating and complete and utter misery my house contains, i see the only option is to move out. the preliminary plans are in the works as of late. and i find the prospect freeing, if not a form keeping my sanity. i try not to think about the magnitude of the entire premise. my love life can take well earned precedence in my life. it is far more rewarding in the long run than to solve the raging battles within these four walls. nor do i have the desire to work things out in that sense. and that, my friends, is quite a shame in the least. maybe the calming on the home front, nonetheless, a complete change of venue for a home life, could contribute to progress in my romantic endeavors. when it comes down to it, despite my grand disappointments, i really do enjoy being in love. for the rush, no drug, no fear, no roller coaster can induce, will change your life. there's no doubt in my mind that this crazy, messy thing can change every fiber of your being. the trouble that arises is there is no knowing whether it will be for the good or the bad. so you just have to ride that shit out. it's unbelievable what love can do to you. that smolder can set your world aflame in a second, or it can keep you warm in the coldest conditions. my problem with love isn't the act its self, it's the repercussions of the act. because, when it's over, the memories remain. and those, those once comforting little happenings, can turn real ugly, real fast. memories of the taste and smell and feel of someone you held close can haunt you for the rest of your life. but that's just the beginning. because, what you've done and thought and wanted when you were involved with them will keep you awake at night. these suffocating memories that should have been cherished...they are now your mortal enemies. left unchecked, those things can consume you, and become you; so much that that one person is all you think about. or maybe more than one person. but love, love is a beautiful thing. beautiful- if it doesn't ruin you in the process. that is where i lie tonight, in the midst of these tumultuous times.