I’ve Never Been One To Wait.

I’ve never been the one to wait. The idea of waiting around for someone has never been my ideal scenario. Whether it be a friend in the bathroom or for a guy to make up his mind.

I see myself as a realist 99% of the time, and a pessimist the other 1%. I analyze the pros and cons of everything, wasting my time over thinking every detail like most young people do. I’ve always walked slow, calculated my movements and scoffed at vulnerability. To wait around for someone seemed childish and a waste of time.

I first realized this when my best friend (someone who knows me better than I know myself) got back with her boyfriend who cheated on her while she was out of the country. Ya, so much for waiting. I never understood how someone could base so much of their happiness on one person, who could easily disappear with it. Of course I thought when I fell in love it would be different.

I’ve never been an extremely reliable person either, even some of my best friends and family can contest to that. From an early age I guess I figured if I can’t be reliable, why should I rely on anyone else? Because relying on others is a recipe for disaster and getting hurt is almost always inevitable.

I really don’t know where I developed this mentality from. I always had solid friends, great parents and all the resources I needed to be successful. So after I graduated and began university, my independence and self-assurance only grew, that is of course, until I met you.

The first time it hit me, was the morning you got up for your early class like any other week. Me still tangled in your cotton sheets, the scent of your body wash on your skin as you came in from the shower, I realized my sense of usual contentment was hindered, on a feeling deeper than my happiness. That feeling grew. Spending night after night in your room, eating dinner, breakfast, and lunch with you. Spending our weekends going out or staying in, if thats what we decided. The whirlwind of it all captured me in a romantic daze that fogged my attitudes of the independent and motivating culture I used to guard myself. I had never needed anyone before, not like this and I hated it. Or more accurately feared it. As happy as I was in the beginning, there was always that small voice. What are you going to do when he leaves? Do you not have any other friends? Do you want to end up alone? I pushed these questions to the back of my mind, not bearing to think of the answers, yet knowing the truth.

And the truth is I’m still scared. I’m scared of getting too close; falling in love. I realize now that the anxiety of falling in love isn’t just the fear that you’ll end up hurt, it’s the fear of allowing so much of someone to become part of you, that if and when they leave, you will never be whole again.

To be continued.


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