Monday, October 24, 2011
It’s amazing what I put the one I love through.
I’m so sorry, sweetheart.
I’m fine, and all of a sudden my insecurities are touched, and C the Bitch comes out to play.
And I know I’m not the first to realize that getting so near-and-dear in a relationship suddenly brings out the worst in you. Is it really the worst? Or is it that your significant other suddenly has access to your greatest hopes and fears? Oh, how often you’re split! How you throw your shoulders back, taking poised steps, oozing with appeal, and in the same day sob into your pillow and hold your middle and scorn your belly fat, completely itching to be outside of your own skin.
Now, you’ve slowly given over to letting that person in, letting him in, letting him in, ‘til all in one instant you realize he has access to your very tender heart. The inner workings of your brain are now laid open for him to dissect. And strangely, he is still there. Through all your tumultuous mood swings and honest-to-god shit.
And then you wonder (maybe YOU don’t, ye reader, but I sure do…) when the day will come that he will discover something that he actually can’t handle. Maybe the way you, American girl, twirl your pasta around your fork (instead of poshly and precisely twisting it into a spoon) will finally push him over the edge of insanity. Maybe one day the cute accent in which you pronounce the not-quite-yet familiar German vocabulary will no longer be as adorable as he thinks it is now.
Maybe one day he’ll realize that all the things from your past are always, always going to be there. Maybe not in the room, sitting haughtily on your couch and laughing as you try to have a genuine and fresh conversation. Maybe not in the field overlooking the city sunset as you whisper sweet things. But sometimes they come walking around the corner when you least expect them. Sometimes they turn up in familiar old smells and sporadic old songs and childhood rooms. And then, lady. Then you are done for. They never call and warn you of their short and slicing visit. You´ll bleed and bleed for days. Sooo slowly, that scab forms. And they laugh bitterly, those songs and smells and rooms, because they know there is nothing you can do about the surprise damage to your person. You don´t want to have to always be prepared for the storm.
And I forgot, until a few days ago, how being in a relationship means one is now responsible for how her actions and emotional release of inhibition so directly affect the mien of her companion.
I don’t like to be this way.
I’m not the vulnerable type, though I feign it quite easily. I’m open, very open! But only to a certain extent, that I can control. Love is letting go of that control and jumping off that cliff without a parachute. It’s a beautiful and terribly scary thing. He can’t promise never to hurt me. He’s human. He can’t promise never to leave~ one day, someday, maybe sooner but hopefully later, death will take both of us. He can’t promise me security and stability, though we both have dreams of what this life could be. He can promise me tomorrow as much as I can promise never to get in a car accident. Oh, but I want him here with me forever…
Why do I feel like, I am too happy? That the only reason I am happy is because it isn’t going to last?
I asked you that, the other day…and you said “shh, shhh, mein Sonnenschein. I’m looking ahead and all I know is that there’s you and me, and it’s bright and beautiful.”
Life with you will be far too short.