Tea-Cup explained (sort of)

WHAM!

"Clean-up on Aisle 4..."

I must be some kind of brittle chick, 'cause I break myself way too often. 
Usually, I have someone around to pick up the pieces and help me sort 
them out. Sometimes I don't. When I don't, things are usually A Little 
Messy(TM).

Maybe I'm just too attached to everything, or too unattached to myself. 
Everything hits me harder than its supposed to, be it beauty or pain. So 
when I get empty, I don't know what to do.

So I was walking along the sidewalk one day from the Science Center 
to the Library, and boom, just like that, I was gone. It's kind of a weird 
feeling, like I think being gutted would be, if you were numb so you
couldn't feel the pain.

When nobody's around to pick up the pieces, sometimes a poem is a 
good reference point, like the picture on the front of a puzzle box. For
 some reason, the image running through my head was of my 
grandmother's old blue-green tea set that I was excited to be allowed to 
use as a kid. It was plastic (hence the reason I could actually use it) and 
kind of dull-looking, but I thought it was beautiful. And it really is the color 
of a summer horizon. I'll let you guess who the color reminds me of.

As for love, well, everything hits me harder. So it leaves faster. Things I 
think are forever last for two weeks before disappearing- only to 
resurface a few days later. Maybe that's just life. It used to bother me. 
Now I know it's just the way I am, and even if the burning feeling goes 
away, it doesn't matter. I am who I am because of the people and feelings 
that have made me, so whether they are still here or not, they are a part 
of me.

The poem says it better.