You might tire of me,
Because our December sun is setting;
I’m not who I used to be...
["Brothers On a Hotel Bed", Death Cab For Cutie]
Recently, I’ve held strongly to a posture of vulnerability. Of trusting and entrusting. It’s scary to be this open though, especially for people like me who are held together with fraying ropes. To allow others to see the brokenness and the refuse of life you’re so apt to sweep under a rug or stuff in a closet to forget about is... horrifyingly terrifying.
It’s a gamble every day. A high stakes game. And, yes, sometimes we’ll tilt or go bust. Sometimes people will take advantage of us, hurt us and run off with the part of our hearts we’ve been so happy to share.
BUT…
If I (we) am to grow into a more loving, honest, grateful person, I need to proceed with abandon (as hard as it is).
I’m terrified. Really terrified. Scared-cat-on-a-tin-roof-during-a-lightning-storm terrified. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart, romantically speaking. And, in all honesty, I’ve done such a bang up job of building a wall of disinterest and “friendliness”, remaining in these daydreams with all their overly-romantic Jane Austen-esque ideals , I’m afraid I don’t know how to steer through the stormy seas of romance.
* * * * *
A dear friend and I once shared how we were always stuck in the most-hated “friend zone”— she for one reason and me for another. But, I realize she is, in ways, more apt to navigate these waters than I. I am much too scared to even take a step forward. I straddle the line - one foot in the rocky boat with all its promises of love and warm embraces (and possible heartbreak, tears and pain) and the other foot planted firmly on the dock of singleness that I’ve grown so accustomed to. Suffice it to say, I am a land-lover... apparently.
To be honest, I don’t even know what it would feel like to be the object of someone else’s affections. To be counted beautiful, not “pretty.” To be thought captivating and enchanting, not odd or strange or weird. To know that a man would want to (would choose to) know me… and love me. For me. Not because of my talents or my "it" factor, but... Just. For. Me.
It’s so much easier to play in the waters of friendship. But, I’m finding my heart pulling me towards the unknown depths a lot more these days. The currents of time are pushing me out farther and farther from the shore without my knowledge, without my consent.
I guess we can say that our little Annibelle is growing up.
How terrifying.
2 comments:
Good words.
I can completely empathize with you on this one. Like I read this and wonder, 'wait, did I write that?'. I have always for the most part willingly kept myself in the friend zone. It is easier that way. But I'm coming to a point of trying to be brave and trying to love fearlessly.
My old roommate in college used to get mad at me for not putting myself out there and dating. She would say that it's selfish that I would keep me to myself. That in choosing not to love (romantically) we deprive others. Through relationship, we grow and when we refuse to enter into relationship out of fear or selfishness, you name it, we are depriving ourselves and others of the opportunity to grow and experience God's love through each other. That convicted me. To not date seemed like my own selfless sacrifice, but it becomes a selfish choice when you look at who you are affecting or depriving.
I'm excited to read that you are feeling the pull towards abandon and love :)
A guy friend here in Nashville told me that I had desirable qualities/features people, things most would pay an arm and a leg for and envy in me. Another just a couple weeks ago commented on my very fetching outfit. And as much as I know they were trying to give me a complement, I was perplexed. I've never thought myself as attractive and had always hoped my character would speak louder on account of that.
My mom tells me I have to bait the hook and catch a good guy. Countless friends tell me I need to "put [myself] out there." I have absolutely no idea what they mean or how I would even begin to do so!
Yes. Exciting. Nauseatingly exciting indeed.
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