Marshmallows...mmm...delicious little things. Roasted marshmallows are by far the best. Any takers? Of course there are! Crispy delectable golden bits of goodness almost too good to eat up in one bite...the time it takes to slowly roast a marshmallow so that it is soft and gooey oozy-yum in the centre with the crunchy outer just-just holding it all together...
My emotions are a marshmallow. In fact, they are that exact marshmallow (soft and gooey oozy-yum in the centre with the crunchy outer just-just holding it all together). Perhaps it may be deduced then that I am in fact the marshmallow skin, maybe a little bit scorched, singed at the edges (come on now, nobody’s perfect) trying to contain my syrupy emotional mess, with an almost ‘tough’ exterior.
My ‘tough’ exterior is about as effective as a honeycomb cage is to a bear.
You know how you have to be so careful when roasting your marshmallow so as to correctly contain the liquid gummy centre so that it doesn’t leak out? I swear that that is what it is like with my emotions. I feel so ardently about almost everything that I speak and act out of, I’m not sure where but it usually isn’t out of my sound mind...nope, definitely not.
Most of the time I don’t even hear the words coming out of my mouth, they just ARE.
Sshlurarbralartjar...jerk...jerk...shlurbatermer...jerk...jerk... *voice breaking* ...shlurbator... *warning bells – red alert, tears on their way*...sdhfljgjptfff...blah which usually results in a gooey mess breaking through calm exterior. It’s not as though I cry for effect (I intensely dislike people who do this), or cry because I am feeling hurt, like a poor injured fawn. I just cry because I get unbelievably choked up about everything!
Crying is something I do very well and almost very regularly. Most of the time, I cry because I am so overwhelmed by my emotions. It’s as though my tears march to their own drum and I would madly appreciate it if the drummer would just hold back a wee-bit (psyche, are you listening???).
I have a serious case of emotional intensity. I sense tears coming on when feeling the need to protect others, to explain myself, to speak words of affection about the ones (and there are a lot of them) that I love, to speak to an audience (I once completed an English oral in grade 10 on no jokes, ‘Food is the way to a man’s heart’, with tears streaming down the sides of my face). I don’t quite understand the last one though. I love people, I usually know what I am going to say, if it is a formal presentation I am always prepared, there is no doubt that I love to talk so...hmmm.
Stumped. Totally baffled.
When I am frustrated, when I am super angry, when people irritate me beyond comprehendible belief, when I am at peace, when I am feeling unbelievably happy around my friends, when I am laughing too hard, when I am hanging out with my family members (there are a lot of those too), when watching documentaries/movies/cartoons...to, to, to, when, when, when.
I have decided that this does not make me a weak person. I am not easily influenced nor easily bullied. My tears are simply a display of my feelings (so I wear my heart on my sleeve – voice box, more like – everyone is different). I am without a doubt over-emotional; blubbering left, right and ALL OVER THE PLACE, but if you care to venture past this river of sticky icky marshmallow syrup of my caring nature, you will be in for a treat (not the sweet kind).
I burn with the same intense heat of a marshmallow left out to roast too long...bright orange flames with a blue heart, thickened black exterior protecting my own emotions and just waiting to burn yours; fingertips (or whole hand, or whole arm, or whole body). It doesn’t happen often but please know where the fire exits are at all times when venturing close to burning point. I believe (fingers crossed) that alot of other people are like this.
I guess that what I am saying is that the calm are also the crazy, the lamb also the leader, the soft also the strong; an important aspect of human nature to consider and not be forgotten.