Fearless

Five years ago on Valentine's Day, I came home to pink roses, hundreds of tea light candles, and a delicious meal all cooked by my then-boyfriend. That's the last time I received any Valentine's Day present worth talking about. He is also the last and only serious relationship I have had in my adult life. Today, I told him if we hadn't gotten back together in the five years we were apart, then apparently we weren't too torn apart about being apart. About a month ago, I sent him a message telling him I had been thinking about him and what might have been. I told him I wanted to see him. I wanted to know if anything was still there. I left the ball in his court and said he should think about it. I had been waiting for his answer. Yet after sending that message, I freaked out. I asked myself where in the hell that came from and why now?

In hindsight, I already knew the answer. There is nothing there between the two of us. We lived. We loved. We learned. We did what every couple does and followed typical protocol when our interests went in separate directions. What I have been missing is not him, it's all the other stuff that came with having him as my boyfriend. I miss companionship, which makes me no different than the majority of the population. However, I have no one to blame but myself. I have had plenty of opportunities to date and have turned 99.9% of them down. While I have spent a lot of time teaching myself the difference between being alone and being lonely, I kind of missed the part where I've been playing the part of both back and forth. Why have I chosen this emotional ping pong game? Because I am scared of love. I am afraid of awkward moments, first dates which lead to self exposure to strangers, and most of all, hurting someone else's feelings if the spark just isn't there. I fear the unknown and learning to love again.

The biggest thing I am missing that I once had is fearlessness. I know it's hiding somewhere inside and that I once posessed this trait. I have plenty of stories about boys from yesterday when I fearlessly pursued them. Obviously, I did not end up with any of them but that didn't stop me from trying. So, what is stopping me now? When did I become a coward? It seems to have just snuck up on me. I've never been afraid of getting older unless it means that I lose the sense of fearlessness forever. I am not willing to part with that gift. It's time to regain that which has been lost.

The signs of destiny are sometimes subtle, but I've been too stubborn to look for any signs. I admire seredipity in books and movies, yet refuse it when it presents itself in my own life. Am I afraid of my own possible fairy tale? My life seems to be standing still and it's because I don't take chances anymore (not just in love, but in everything.) The wheel of fortune is waiting for me to take a spin and perhaps it's time to do that without doubt.

After all, according to poet James Russell Lowell, "Fate loves the fearless."