Introspection is exhausting. No one tells you that. No one tells you that sometimes the only way to go forward is to go backwards and deal with things. I spend a lot of time, sometimes too much time, in my head: analyzing, worrying and trying to work out everything I think and feel. For the most part, I recognize all of the things I encounter in that emotional quagmire but every once in awhile I come across something that I just can’t quite put my finger on.
It’s hard to describe how this feels. It’s not quite an ache, more of a pull, a lure. It’s pulling me towards something inside myself, something somewhat dark, something vaguely primal. It’s feels like its pulling me towards a locked door.
But where is the key?