What I knew was that in the past I held back too much for my liking. I had been so afraid of rejection or judgment that I’d forgone even trying to avoid the pain. I told myself I wasn’t being stupid, I felt like I was being true. Honest.
I told him he intrigued me. I thought I could like him and I thought if we both dropped our acts, we could like each other. I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. I wasn’t even sure that his was an act. Perhaps he was as distant as he sometimes felt. But, I wondered, do kisses lie? I had an inexplicable warmth being held by him. I could recall it by memory and though it was fleeting it was delicious.
I had an awful knack for seeing past a persons scars. For seeing them in all their potential and for looking at them square in the eye and viewing who they really were. I often grow impatient waiting for others to get a glimpse of themselves as I see them right away. It’s not uncommon for us to miss our own magic. I Saw him. I did not know his whole story. I didn’t know his reasons. But I knew he had a good heart and he was much softer than one might ordinarily anticipate.
Maybe, I considered, it was a selfish act. To want to feel as though my love were worth the vulnerability and that my care was worth the risk of heartbreak. Did I need to feel worthy that badly? I acknowledge that it could be true in part. I also acknowledge that it may be partially true that I simply felt something with him I hadn’t in a really long time and I wanted to feel that again. Often.
Stupid girl, I’d sometimes call myself for knowing the odds were against me and acting anyway. Nodding to both the side that knew better and the side that dared to try anyway. Does courage assess risk?
I closed my eyes and saw us back on my couch. Me holding him close…and I let myself fall asleep dreaming the reality I longed for. At least in this moment.