I made some poor decisions on my way to okay because I didn’t know that I wasn’t healing.
I tried to fast forward everything and convinced myself I was ready, when I wasn’t even close to the starting line. Once my wounds were thick scar tissue healed clean, I realized how wrong I’d been.
I had royally fucked up, maybe even burned a connective bridge to nothing but ash.
It was a tough thought to swallow but one of my few redeeming qualities is my 100% willingness to martyr myself for and take all blame from those I care for.
A hop, a skip, and a jump later (or lots of time self analyzing) I knew what I wanted and expected. I knew my weak spots and areas that needed work. I also knew I hadn’t done myself any favors with my customary emotional unavailability and reactionary running.
So, I did the only thing an introverted, emotionally repressed girl with horrid communication skills could do.
I threw open the damned doors to his heart (or maybe cracked them enough to slip inside), vigorously announcing (in a whisper soft, tremulous little voice) my attentions & intentions with verve and panache (more like sass and vinegar with a giant dollop of self-depreciation).
What happened, you ask?
Well…nothing, really. Except a lot of fun. A lot of laughter. A lot of smiling just because I enjoyed his presence. A lot of honesty. A lot of wishing that my shortcomings weren’t so very….short. Also, a few tears as I realized that what made him happy made me happy.
Even if it wasn’t with me.
Overall behavior and feeling analysis?
INFINITE GROWTH & POTENTIAL!!
So, maybe it didn’t turn out as I wanted, but it was still worth it. I like to think that if the intrepid girl I am in my head and on paper had matched in, his heart wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.
But, that girl grew straight from an overactive imagination whilst I came up the normal way, covered in scars and scratches and hiding a fear of abandonment imbedded so deep that the very thought of intimacy in a relationship had me running to whatever emotionally unavailable man was closest.
But, that is another story for another time. Keep checking the blog and I’ll keep updating!
P.S. I’d rather die #foreveralone with 47 cats hidden away in my hoarder house than chase another emotionally unavailable man.
Choose me or lose me.
I won’t wait around for someone to decide I’m second best ever again. Choose me now or I’m gone forever.