Love and Fear

I feel myself tumbling down. Losing my balance and off I go, to another trip of excitement and guaranteed heartache. I really, really should have my dating privilege taken from me. Maybe being put on a secluded island, or a monastery where I can't flirt with other people. But then again, I am resourceful. I will still find a way. Sigh.

I told myself I deserve this. I love the attention. I love the excitement. I was so happy that I still have the glow the next day. A glow apparently so potent that a frickin bus driver felt compelled to stop his huge travel bus in a no-stop zone just to run and try to get my number. And yes, numerous "Hey beautiful!"

We all need that, right? The blush in our cheeks, the light in our eyes. The extra loud heartbeat when we got that message notification. The way our mind swirls and thinks of the many things we want to say or do with this person. It's nothing less than magical. 'Rose colored glasses' is not an accurate description, it's more like 'Rosé buzzed' to be honest.

But then the fear gripped me again. It will end. If I'm lucky, it will end in a good way. If I'm not, it will end in an ugly way. I might end up hurting somebody. I will definitely end up hurting myself. Why bother then? It's a sweet escape that will lead to hell. And I have had enough of it.

I can feel myself ready to run. The happy and loving mood in the morning has turned into a frightened and panic mood by the afternoon. I realize I don't have trust in anyone. I realize I am scared of getting hurt again. I realize that I am ready to fight my way out, tooth and nail. The shadow of trauma lurks around me like a suffocating fog.

Do I really have to build a wall around me to make sure I don't bring more casualty? Do I really have to hide to make sure I don't get hurt, ever again? If I need love, I could just stick to fictional characters like that Newt Scamander look-a-like, or someone who won't love me back. That would be safe, right?

Yet I am tired of running away. I am tired of hiding behind the cover only to have a grenade lobbed at me, to feel the bullets inadvertently pierce me through my Kevlar. I am made to love, made for love. Come what may, I will end up getting hurt. I need to learn to shield myself better, to practice the rule of detachment in order to protect myself.

Unfortunately, it will not happen through hiding and running. I need to be there to take the blows, to learn from my mistakes and understand what is important and what is not. It will not be pretty, but I have run and hide long enough. I need to do this.

A text message came through. I can feel my legs turn into jelly. I can feel the weight of fear around me. I have to resist the impulse to just block and delete the number. I can taste the bitterness on my tongue from acid reflux. I am scared. I am so very scared. 

I imagine myself standing on the top of a cliff with this giant monster looming upon me, an abstract figure with edges blended with the surrounding. I know I have no chance of winning, but I won't back down. Not anymore. I really, really should have my dating privilege taken from me.