The "Issue"

I've finally recognized my problem. A problem without a cure nor a calm, a self made, self loved problem.
I'm romantic.
I am so romantic, that I will invent reasons to swoon and love and cry.

Here's the thing.
How do I turn this thunderstorm of self made emotion into productivity and what medium do I move through.
It'd far more inspiring to be abandoned and heart broken than to be content and comfortable, I've learned that through much experience.
And some part of me has been bringing those feelings to the surface, I think for the reason of making me inspired.
Now what do I do with it?

This is almost as good as solar energy.
When a bout of depression washes over my grieving, lonely body I can mold a new world. I can build cities and tear down industry and invent life.
But this has to be channeled somehow or else I just end up bothering my boyfriend with all of this fantastical whim.

This also brings up the necessity of the man I'm with.
I don't enjoy the misery I invent,
but he seems almost a key instrument in this grievance.
It seems that I need a love or flame to be heartbroken and creative.
Thankfully I'm madly in love, disturbingly in love.
One of the many assets of being a romantic, I assume.
And that drives me to act (what most consider) insane.

But let's imagine a world in which I have a place or way of moving all of that woe into a creation. Would I then be crazy? Or inspired?
Is this what artists deal with?
I wish I had cultivated a talent, then it'd be excusable to act this way.
But maybe that's where I need to move.
Will these absurd emotions pull up some talent?
Or do I just have the misunderstood angst and none of the ability to use it?
Bah, what a womanly issue.

But of course, woman are pushed to act as "women" and feel and swoon and wear our hearts on our sleeves.
Until our emotions make them uncomfortable.
And then we are shunned.

C'est la vie.