who makes me feel as comfortable and at peace as that day when I was nine, lying on the warm driveway, in Hawaii, as it rained. The drops were warm. The ground was warm. I wished I would have been able to stay there forever. That moment in time. In a beautiful place, as a child with no responsibilities, clueless of the turmoil and excitement and ups and downs of adult relationships.
When you are a child, you see things. New things. Possibilities. You aren’t good at anything, and it doesn’t matter. No one is keeping track. No one is judging a toddler who takes the first steps into the new world. It’s okay to mess up. It’s expected.
You have time. You are given that time, space, and grace to be a beginner.
Somehow though, as you get older you are naturally supposed to know how to do everything. I am not talking about fixing toilets or knitting a sock.
I am talking about relational. We are supposed to know how to play by the rules in dating. Supposed to know what the rules are. No messing up. You have to edit yourself. Not share too much.
A friend sat with me one telling day and said “Not everyone deserves your truth.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. Original quote goes to Chelsea Handler. But my friend said it in context that completely knocked me off my rails. But yet, I have continued to offer up bits of myself that others flat out don’t deserve.
Another chip out of your self esteem.
You wear your heart on your sleeve.
Like it’s a bad thing. To be giving, and loving and caring. To be thoughtful of another person.
Tonight as I sat by the water I saw them. Couples. People who were really into each other. Pairs. They held hands and nuzzled each other’s necks.
And I have been there. In a pair. I have had texts fill my phone. Handwritten notes to awake to, in the morning and a hug when I really needed it.
It’s when all these things are gone that the real issues come up.
You are stuck with yourself.
And who are you?
Well you can’t be the one who wears your heart on your sleeve and you can’t be the one with any expectations of anything. You can’t be the one who is wanting more. And you certainly can’t have an opinion, let alone voice it.
To edit down who I am, is to relive my last relationship all over again. Over and over forever.
Losing my voice, the glint in my eyes when I feel something. My want to touch. Is that better?
To dull down to get further, to go the distance, might just not be worth it.
It is in the caverns of my brain, (anxiety riddled sometimes, and over-thinker most of the time, that I am,) that my greatest creativity lives. It’s why I see hearts because I look. Look past the immediate, into what could be. It’s why I tell stories.
Why do lessons have to hurt so much? Why do they keep coming at me? To settle my mind is to kill off the thing that makes me who I am. The feeler, the one who pays attention.
The one who remembers the way it felt that one day, almost forty years ago. Lying on the driveway in the pouring rain in Hawaii where the ground and the drops felt the same temperature.
So if I want someone who feels as comfortable and at peace as I felt that day, perhaps it is time to look inside. Forgive myself for my mistakes. Tell myself I will do better next time. But still pay attention. Feel the raindrops and the warmth and give myself a hug.