The pain of sweet laughter followed by longing
Is a bewildering sensation that snakes itself around me.
When feeling so spent that nothing tense satisfies,
I settle for the momentary joy followed by the dull ache.

The ache itself should be intimately familiar,
But somehow it feels like a fresh wound every time.
Why must I process my feelings this way?
In every heartbeat is a new opportunity to sting.

Shouldn't I appreciate the opportunity to feel?
Shouldn't I celebrate joy that I so miss?
Perhaps two things are true of the human condition:
Longing and loss--inextricably intertwined.