Sometimes, she thinks too much. And sometimes, she knows she doesn't think enough.
It's a balancing act, not unlike the high-wire that she mastered long ago; this, however, she hasn't mastered (and she's not sure she ever will).
Oftentimes, either extreme leads her somewhere she doesn't want to be.
Think too much, and her train of thought often dwells upon the things she tries to forget. They seem to spite her, reappearing in the darkest minutes of her day, while she is surrounded by so much and yet still so alone. Memories that float to the surface of her subconscious and force their way into her dreams without her permission (unfortunately, dreams are one place that, even for her, logic does not reign; therefore she cannot control them, no matter how hard she tries). The dreams that make her feel like a teenager again, that upon waking make her feel the ache of loneliness that she had thought she'd banished 15 years ago along with her childhood.
When she doesn't think enough, when she lets her heart lead her, she inevitably does something wrong. There are countless times when she's said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing, and caused hurt to someone she cares about.
Lately, all she can remember is what was probably her biggest mistake. When she let the teenage Temperance out instead of Dr. Temperance Brennan; the one who had never been asked to a dance or a party by a boy, who now betrayed her in making her forget everything she knew to be true about the best man she's ever known. Do you think I'm a loser? It haunts her dreams at night; why can she only now see the hurt in his eyes?
And so, being a scientist, she experiments to determine how to fix this problem. Letting her heart and her head share control while they spin circles around her like clothes whirling in a dryer, swapping control back and forth and back and forth and back and forth again.
She doesn't know if she'll ever get it right. But she has to try.