Flooded with
it all.
Emotion, responsibilities, burden.
Full of
everything.
Advice, devotion, worry.
So many people. So many check-ins. So many wishes and wants and some days and maybes and when can we and soons.
Completely absorbed with no feasible way to immerse in more… in life, in work, in love, in existing.
Deluged.
Overladen.
Younger me would keep going. Keep diving in, unabashed and hopelessly unaware of the damage to come. Stomping forward, oblivious of missteps or the path’s trajectory.
Older me will also keep going. Stepping in, when able, knowing what bits of me are left to give and which are to be protected at all costs. Treading lightly, yet surely, understanding even the best intentions may have poor outcomes.
Flooded with
it all.
Understanding, sense, support.
Full of
Everything.
Direction, love, concern.
So many people to love. So many people to embrace. So many people to see when I need time to recover from the deluge; time enough for my cup to stop being overladen, and become delightfully full.
Here’s to those who know the difference.
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