In the perfect world

In the end, it is my own feelings, my own emotions that completely throw me off. I know how my characters would handle the world; they would take each obstacle in stride and never lose control, never say the wrong thing. That is not my life. When am I ever really in control? I want it, need it so badly. If I could control my life as if it were a novel. I cannot write anyone else's script, but I even find that I cannot write my own...it is disappointing and often painful.
I cannot find the perfect people for me... or rather the perfect person, but then I think. What if my longings are completely made up? Do I simply imagine them so that they fit into this story that I have worked up in my mind. These perfect moments grow higher in my esteem, but still I choose to jump without even checking if there are sharp rocks at the bottom.
Maybe if my adrenaline stopped pumping I would become bored and uninterested even in my perfect world. That's awful, but it is these thoughts that keep running through my mind. I jump when I should not jump and linger at the edge if maybe I should.
Thought for the day: Think first, but not too much.