Repair and maintenance

I don't know what I was missing. It's like when I tell myself, "Kate, no more ice cream bars." What happens? I see Dove Triple Chocolate in the freezer and I grab one. Not because I was hungry or because I had a sweet tooth. It wasn't because the ice cream bar itself was irresistible--come on, it's not a sexy man after all. I reached out for that sinful ice cream bar because it was comfortable and it never ceased to satisfy. That sentence was so sexual but bear with me.

I spend such a tremendous amount of effort keeping myself from things that I deem unnecessary or not good for me. I spend time keeping people out and pushing them away that I forget why I wanted them so close when it all started. It's a similar concept I keep consistent with forcibly denying myself those rich, high-cholesterol comfort foods.

In the concept of socialization, however, it takes a lot of solitude and rounds of British piano rock music to remind me of the little things I loved about the people I told myself I shouldn't talk to anymore. Somewhere along the line from when I met them to when we ceased to remain in contact, I decided it was unhealthy to be involved with them. Who knows what catalyzed that event, but that's not the point of this vent. One Coldplay track after another got me to think about how small the world is at the end of the day.

When loneliness bites, I always try to repair the bridges I burned.

I know something is broken and I try to fix it,
trying to repair it any way I can.
-X&Y, Coldplay



We go back to what's comfortable. At least I do.

I don't care for what I tell myself at one point or what strong, heartfelt reasons I gave myself to persuade me into thinking that someone was not good for me. After time apart I feel this giant need to crawl into their arms for a bear hug and pacification. And guess what? It feels like home. It feels like it's all back to normal. So I do everything I can to repair whatever I broke and maintain this state of homeliness. I love staying in that mentality forever but upon reconciliation I subconsciously know that the cycle will repeat itself and I'll revert to staying health conscious.

But because this world is oh, so small, nature finds a way of taking me back to what feels viscerally good. Just like Harlow's experiment with monkeys, in times of need we will always naturally flock to what feels comfortable, nurturing, even if it serves nothing for our health.

Here's to you, Triple Chocolate Dove Bar.

I wanna love you but I don't know if I can.