Note 6

I don't like to feel. Who does?

I was born premature, two months to be exact. I am a fire sign who was supposed to be birthed via water. Sometimes, I like to think that that relates to my disdain for feelings and more importantly my penchant for pain. No, I don't enjoy pain, it seems to enjoy me. It's followed me ever since I came those two months early. I looked like a little naked mole rat, half-formed, morphed between two moons. Today, I still exist somewhere between those dualities.

I'd like to think that being securely birthed during one month would have given me a more natural path to feeling. I can only think in retrospect; I can only employ the dreaded "what if's" that my therapist so frequently urges me to rid from my mind. But, what if I could feel?

I feel like the Tin Man. Maybe if you slid some oil on my heart it would open like the ruby petals of a rose. What if it wouldn't?

The problem with pain is that it rusts over the tinder parts that make up each of us. It grinds them down into tiny morsels of nothing, like unsolvable puzzles or microscopic needles in endless haystacks. No wonder it's so difficult to heal a broken heart.

I don't lack the ability to feel; my moon sign fills me with plenty of emotions, however, the fire that rules me isn't fond of me sitting with those disparate feelings. There is no vulnerability with a rusted over heart. And a dearth of vulnerability creates compounding disparate emotions, that get spilled out on a digital page each month.

I don't like to feel. Who does?

It hurts.

Peace, love, and hair grease

– Dierra