I wonder why it is that every time I say the words, "I am very happy" out loud, it induces some form of cosmic heartburn, and some unseen force barfs chaos all over me? 

Whatever the situation, thing or person was that caused me to proclaim my joy, I can almost predict its ruin.
My single-mindedness is my downfall.
 Loving anything or anyone too much cripples me. 
I wonder if I'll ever achieve the level of maturity that allows me to laugh at irony, rather than cry for loss?
Will I ever learn to love with detachment?
Does anyone?

watching it burn