On Our Way To Crazy

I can’t believe I let you have this kind of power over me. I mean, every time? Really? Every time you suck me in and every time I get burned.

I don’t know how I let it happen. I know it’s bad. I know I hate it. But somehow, every time, I forget the pain, the struggle, the exhaustion, the drama. I forget how much WORK it all ends up being. I get sucked in by the fun, the color, the excitement, the novelty.

And you burn me.

You make me tired. You never deliver. You make me do all the work. I start out so happy and full of hope and I end up worn out and swearing you off forever.

But then I come back. Again and again and again.

It’s the aftermath that’s the problem. The aftermath is just so, so good. Things are nice and cool and so much better than they were before. It lulls me into thinking the whole experience was worth it and I can put up with the ugly. Or just forget the ugly entirely.

I love you. I hate you. I hate to love you.

I need to break your spell. I shake my fist at you, IKEA!