I have a special talent for running. Away, that is. I have pondered on relationships and staying. This is it.
There is no courage in leaving. That’s harsh criticism. Many people don’t decide to leave, they just have to. But what if you’re on the fence? How can you decide between two things that are in the „could be, should be“ stage, that are „consistent, not yet confirmed“. Love or career, that old bitch of a question.
I became an expert in breaking things off that I felt were not right for me. As much as I am advocating for trusting your gut, I also like to question myself time and again. I know that past relationship would have probably fallen apart one way or another because the vibes weren’t right. Because you cannot fake love, convincingly, not forever. But does that mean you have to discard someone like an old hat when you first encounter a minor issue?
And then there’s the one. The first one. The first One. One of many?
I am not a romantic. I am the child of divorced parents and for a long time, I fulfilled that cliché role, hating on couples, distrusting everyone. Until it did not serve me anymore.
I now believe that there is no courage in running away. If you get hurt, you get hurt, that’s inevitable then. But the bittersweet taste of not knowing if it could have lasted, had you trusted, is too much to handle. I never want to taste it again.
So we throw ourselves into love, ready to be hurt again. Ready to float on cloud nine, until the rain starts pouring and we search for shelter, licking our wounds.
But it is not life, living under a rock so noone can find and harm you and touch you, make and break promises.
Say „I love you.“ Listen to my silly stories. Make me the person I am, make me see that I am already enough, not some flawed prototype of a person that needs to be re-engineered.
There is courage in trying to love and in staying in love, in falling in love again after you have lost it.
I applaud you, lover, because you already have so much more than you think.