Dear … heart,
It’s a miracle that you haven’t closed yourself off forever, given the turmoil of the past few years. Just this week, you and I have realised that there is possibility for love in our future. A handful of dates with the right person, the promise of more, and that’s all it’s taken for me to realise that there’s a chance. And I’m proud of you, of us, for that. For realising that, even though it might be easier to to protect us from further pain, closing off from love is not the bravest thing to do.
Being brave is accepting that love comes with risk and letting ourselves go for it anyway, even though bravery brings fear, like a rotten little sidekick, along for the ride.
And I am scared.
I’m scared of that risk, of the possibility that what has appeared so easily might disappear just as quickly. I even had a little cry about that today, if I’m honest. Tears that fell just because I feel vulnerable about saying that I’ve met someone who I really, really like. Who I want to be a part of my future. Who seems, at the time of writing, to feel the same way about me.
But to let that fear take over might just turn the right person away, if I let it turn me into a jealous nightmare, or a panic-stricken, anxiety riddled shadow. Might turn what could be a beautiful thing into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure. I don’t want to do that. I want this person to see me for the real me. Someone who is strong, because of what I know. Someone who can be brave, can stand on my own two feet but would love a partner to stand shoulder to shoulder with. Someone who understands that no-one gets to this age without some history, and has the empathy to embrace that. Someone who can live and love wholeheartedly.
All of this is still purely possibility at this point, so I’m trying my absolute best to keep things in balance. To allow you to lead me, heart, but to live for the joy that I feel today, instead of writing prophecies in my head–good and bad– about what might be to come. Not to get carried away, keeping things in perspective, but allowing myself to feel the way I feel right at this minute; when the fear doesn’t get in the way, I’m really bloody happy.
I feel you, heart, as I make these decisions. My heart, my fear, my courage, my intuition. You’re all there, working together. I just need to slow down, listen to my truth. Listen to you. And be brave enough to say, ‘I deserve this’. I deserve to fill my heart with love, allow myself to fall in love and be loved in return, take the risks, accept that I’m not in control but to allow for the possibility of good things happening. And to know my boundaries. Know what is acceptable behaviour, what will make for a good, healthy love and trying my best to be the kind of person I want to fall in love with too. Not accepting less than that, this time around. All that heartbreak has taught me well.
So, heart. Keep beating for me. Keep filling me with love, keep my life flowing through me. Allow me to dare greatly. I’m going to throw myself in the deep end. Just, let’s take it one day at a time, ok?