Lately it seems I've taken to crying for no reason. Something small, some tiny feeling brought on by a song; voice; memory; place creeps upon me and like water being drawn up from a well suddenly a wave moves up from my stomach to my throat to my eyes and before I know it tears just burst out and I dont even know if I'm happy or sad and when I shout aloud, "Why am I crying?" I dont know the answer but I know it's not sadness, not mostly, and maybe its nostalgia; missing; wishing; yearning but it somehow ends up beautiful and hopeful and grateful.
The other night I went back inside my heart and thought about the people I've loved, or thought I loved, or never loved, and I realized just how many kinds of love, and not love, there are, and some are the right kind and some are the wrong kind and some aren't love at all and some are prequels to love that never have the chance to pan out, but those are the kind that make your heart wistful; wistful for that glance up from the table into the other person's eyes and knowing you're looking at the other person, just as they are, and they're looking back at you, just as you are. And some kinds of love are the kind that last forever, the feelings you hold in your heart for the people most dear to you; and some kinds of love are inexplicable, and you just do simply because you cannot.
It's all just a reminder that your heart--and my heart, too--can never, nor should never, be too full.