I...am an obsessive person. Day in and day out, small things and big things alike are often found victims of my mind's relentless scrutiny. Ever since I was a kid, when I used to lie awake at night unable to sleep because I couldn't "turn my brain off," I've found things about which to obsess. For me obsession isn't an effort, it's natural, it's like breathing.
Over the years this tendency has had some pretty positive side effects - good grades, great recall, and even joy in the tiny things that are easily missed. Yet these don't outweigh the high price paid for this neurosis - anxiety, indecision, difficulty relaxing, inability to fully express one's self. Now I find myself in the middle of a precious season in which my obsession battles are strong. The gravity of the singular nature of this time in my life has been fuel to this fixation fire. These days only happen once and the obsessive, neurotic person inside me is screaming to make sure I get it right, that I don't look back wishing I'd done anything (from flowers to pictures) differently.
Yet the more I obsess, the more I rob myself of the joy of the moments I'm in; the more I find myself wishing I hadn't been obsessing and had just lived those moments. Basically I end up creating the regret I seek to avoid. Two and a half months from today I will get married. I don't want to spend these beautiful days worrying about what I might wish 10 years from now I'd done differently. Our whole wedding event is planned around James and I's core belief that May 21st isn't going to be about the party, it's going to be a party about the love.
Oh tides of temptation, how quickly you steal my gaze away from it's rightful place, how swiftly I am caught up in your torrents. I am not helpless, though, and back to solid ground I will trek. Be still, oh anxious mind of mine. These are the days of love.
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