full

i love that feeling that comes from being filled. not in a food-wise way, because i ate chips and salsa for dinner tonight and that's not entirely filling.

sitting here on an ordinary monday evening, i feel the feeling i have been chasing for seemingly eons now. 

full. devoid of a void. 
simply full. 

by myself. within and through and around and over and any other prepositional phrases that can be applied to a rabbit and a tree. 

you see, i freak out too much about life in general, but especially men {ugh. lame, i know}. this has been a great source of discontent, like that little pocket of dirt that ends up being the crater to a purely putrid pimple. a little over-analyzing typically leads to a gargantuan melt-down with time and some salt on the wound. or so i've found.

but now, i am fine. not the freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional italian job definition, but fine. finally full. content.... happy, dare-i-say it.

 "different: larger, fuller, more complete, no longer divided against myself... 

larger, but lighter, much lighter... 

myself unto myself. 

one. 

me"

- ella enchanted-

ingrid sings, "i've gotta see if i'm filled up when it's only me"
and i have. i somehow miraculously have.

*image from here