I was once told that I love with my whole self. I don't know what that means, but I'm starting to think it's true. I kind of throw my heart into everything I do...every relationship, every friendship, every task...it's kind of how I roll. Unfortunately, such willingness to put myself out there has led to many broken hearts and many tears shed.
I'm still trying to decide if I want to be this person; this hopeless romantic version of myself. The problem is, the experiences I've had as a result have been some of the best of my life. And even though at the end of the day I'm the one fighting back tears, I think it's ok that I've allowed myself to feel so fully.
There's this song that I love that says, "I won't regret 'cause you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be." I think it's a good reminder of the hope that comes. That each experience I survive emotionally is only teaching me how to be a little more grown up and a little better prepared for all the best things that still lie ahead of me.
I tend to gush...when I'm happy and when my heart is full I like to share with anyone who will listen. Granted, it has a tendency to make the disappointment a little more humiliating, but it has provided me with a circle of support and trust that I'm sure few others have. Even in the midst of a really horrible year, I have these lights of people that remind of the hope that lies ahead. I'm pretty lucky in that way...my travels and openness have provided me with people from all over the countryside to trust and count on when I get in over my head.
And in the midst of the last few weeks of uncertainty and confusion, but hoping with everything in me, I received this text: "well if he's worth convincing, get it done cause you're worth it." It came after I spent a day gushing and worrying about whether or not a guy would see my worth in the risk. And maybe he did and maybe he didn't, but most importantly, I think I finally did.
So I'm not just sitting and pondering how to live differently because I feel like I'm finally living right. Maybe the best I can do for me right now is to actually be kind of single for five seconds and just get through the next few months of rotations and interviews and see where life will take me. Part of me is tired of the loneliness, but most of me is so excited for the next big thing...and I just have to have a little more faith that the rest will work itself out in spite of my exhausting need to love completely.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
It turns out I did grow up and learn something
Clearly I have not had the best track record for relationships. I blame it on the paralyzing fear I had in high school whenever a boy came near me. So after 3 years of relationships with generally decent guys, but clearly not the best fit for me, I met this one guy.
Now, to save you the nauseating updates on why he's perfect and wonderful and awesome in every imaginable way, I will simply say this: he was so nice. And while that sounds anti-climatic and somewhat boring, I cannot deny the simple fact that the thing that kept me coming back for more was the fact that I did not know a relationship could be like that. Not only was he nice, but he was engaging, and thoughtful and thought provoking. He took an interest in my work, not knowing the whole of what I do, but he was eager to learn about it. He didn't judge me for ordering macaroni and cheese and eating the bulk of our molten chocolate lava slice of heaven dessert. All in all, he was the guy that made my heart beat a little faster at the thought of him...and I was willing to take a risk to figure out where it was going.
Until the fateful day that the last woman who held his heart returned for a second chance at what could have been love. And what could I possibly say? Well, I could have guilt-tripped him, cried, made a public scene, shown up at inopportune times with perfectly coifed hair just to make him realize what he was missing...I could have begged him to pick me. But I didn't.
And this is how I know that he is different - I didn't have the compulsion. I recognized that if I was ever going to have a shot with this guy, the best thing I could do is let him ride out his first love to completion and closure or perhaps his very own happy ending. Weirdly enough, I can't be mad. I have tried to be mad, or sad or heartbroken...and I am a little heartbroken...but I'm ok. A guy like him is only worth having if our relationship doesn't become defined by his what-ifs.
So this is what I've learned from my triste in adult relationships: they don't require the drama that always seemed to consume me in my past. The bulletpoint under that heading would also contain something along the lines of the freeing sense of actually being myself, flaws and all, without feeling like my quirks were liabilities. Add to that the cliche of open and honest communication and apparently it adds up to quite a good, though quite short, little adult relationship. It ended with a sad note, but a full heart knowing that I have crossed over to a place of recognizing what I'm worth and what that should look like.
And I can be nothing short of forever grateful to the man who introduced me to all the possibilities within. I even wished him luck in his search for rekindling his own love...and meant it. This, my dears, is what it should have always been like.
Now, to save you the nauseating updates on why he's perfect and wonderful and awesome in every imaginable way, I will simply say this: he was so nice. And while that sounds anti-climatic and somewhat boring, I cannot deny the simple fact that the thing that kept me coming back for more was the fact that I did not know a relationship could be like that. Not only was he nice, but he was engaging, and thoughtful and thought provoking. He took an interest in my work, not knowing the whole of what I do, but he was eager to learn about it. He didn't judge me for ordering macaroni and cheese and eating the bulk of our molten chocolate lava slice of heaven dessert. All in all, he was the guy that made my heart beat a little faster at the thought of him...and I was willing to take a risk to figure out where it was going.
Until the fateful day that the last woman who held his heart returned for a second chance at what could have been love. And what could I possibly say? Well, I could have guilt-tripped him, cried, made a public scene, shown up at inopportune times with perfectly coifed hair just to make him realize what he was missing...I could have begged him to pick me. But I didn't.
And this is how I know that he is different - I didn't have the compulsion. I recognized that if I was ever going to have a shot with this guy, the best thing I could do is let him ride out his first love to completion and closure or perhaps his very own happy ending. Weirdly enough, I can't be mad. I have tried to be mad, or sad or heartbroken...and I am a little heartbroken...but I'm ok. A guy like him is only worth having if our relationship doesn't become defined by his what-ifs.
So this is what I've learned from my triste in adult relationships: they don't require the drama that always seemed to consume me in my past. The bulletpoint under that heading would also contain something along the lines of the freeing sense of actually being myself, flaws and all, without feeling like my quirks were liabilities. Add to that the cliche of open and honest communication and apparently it adds up to quite a good, though quite short, little adult relationship. It ended with a sad note, but a full heart knowing that I have crossed over to a place of recognizing what I'm worth and what that should look like.
And I can be nothing short of forever grateful to the man who introduced me to all the possibilities within. I even wished him luck in his search for rekindling his own love...and meant it. This, my dears, is what it should have always been like.
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