Then my fog started to lift. For a lot of reasons. But I could see the benefits of opening my heart. Just a bit. And dare I say, that sometimes it's hard to admit. And maybe more often than I would like, I panic at the thought of being hurt again. It's a risk; putting in effort and a whole lot of like and kisses and personal stories and all that other stuff. With nothing set in stone, with the possibility of disappointment, with the unknown just looming out there.
It's been pointed out a few times over the last couple of months that maybe I'm not truly bitter. I'm just scared. I'm insecure. I'm just as worried that it won't work out just as I am that it will.
And I'm owning it.
Reasons Why I am not as Bitter as I Say I Am (with a few reasons of why I'm scared mixed in):
- I believe that relationships and and love and everything in-between take hard work. Right from the beginning.
- I will gladly spend an hour and a half of my time, the night before Valentine's Day, hand-stitching little heart-shaped packs of candy. Even if I don't actually like the holiday.
- I say that I'm bitter, my voice cracks. And then get called out on my bullshit.
- I'm shy when it comes to public displaying my affection. Because I'm scared of being pushed away.
- I won't be able to admit it, but I'll me swooning deep inside the first night I sleep over without any sex. I really do just want to be able to wake up in the middle of the night and be inches away.
- I believe words as they are said to me, no pretense or mystery. And hope that you believe mine.
- I like to hear stories of the past because they brought us here. Opening up is an art.
So dear readers, are you bitter or just scared? There is more for me to write...but regardless of the emotions, I'm always cautious anymore.