Truth Has a Feeling

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Isn’t it so simple.

How easy it is to complicate the more beautiful parts of our lives.

The tears left my face hours ago, but the sunset still holds the feeling of uncertainty I’ve been facing this entire year. I question everything. Maybe that’s why I wanted to be a journalist. I’ve always wanted to understand things, to look closer, to find the answer beneath the answer.

But there are parts of life that never required me to analyze them.

If my homegirls loved me. If I loved my family. It just was.

There are little pieces of life that we know feel a certain way. Without confusion. Without complication. There’s a familiarity to everything. A recognition.

So ladies, if I know what it feels like, why do I still confuse what is and what isn’t?

Strange, isn’t it? How smart, beautiful, and aware we can be, yet in the same breath, so resistant to the truth.

There’s more to life than all of this. I consistently have to tell myself that. There’s more to life than dying for love, although I believe in going hard for the cause. The love of friends. Music. Writing. A person.

But maybe the truth is that we already know more than we give ourselves credit for.

You know what confidence feels like. You know what safety feels like. Security. Health. Joy. You know because you’ve met those feelings somewhere before. You recognize them.

And maybe there’s a kind of human bliss in choosing not to know. In believing, even if just for a moment, that something could be different from what it is.

I’m trying to be okay with leaving some pieces unanswered, because sometimes the answer is already clear.

You know most truths.

Sometimes, we just want something more interesting to believe in.