Relationship: re-la-tion-ship: the way in which two or more concepts, objects or people are connected, or the state of being connected.
Otherwise known as the thing I suck at.
Historically, relationships don't work out well for me. At all. They start out ok, quickly begin deteriorating, then end badly in a big burning pile of shit. It's not pretty, and it usually hurts like hell. Relationships scare me, to be completely honest. It's not just the potential to be hurt, because I honestly believe if something is really worth the doing, it's worth the risk of getting hurt by it. Some people love riding bulls, flying airplanes, planting cactus gardens, etc. I don't need to point out the potential for personal injury here. If you love it, if it's in your blood, it's worth the possible broken bones, bleeding cuts and lost limbs. Emotionally or physically, it doesn't matter. It's worth it to me.
Relationships scare me for far different reasons. They scare me more because of the huge potential for me to fuck up. And when I fuck up, I fuck up big. They scare me because I am nearly incapable of giving up on people who mean a lot to me, and when relationships end, I'm always the self destructive asshole who wants to be friends. They scare me because they could possibly go well. They could be wonderful, and amazing and bring all the happiness and joy that sharing your life with the right person is supposed to bring, and then I will fuck it up. Once it's perfect, and everything I ever wanted, thats the point where I will bring it all crashing down. Because that's the dysfunctional way I roll, son.
At this current juncture, I am dating someone that I wanted to be with for over two years. Someone who is sweet and kind and attentive and generous and funny and affectionate and a million other things that I completely adore. Even when I'm in a shitty mood, as soon as I see him I can't help smiling. Waking up next to him makes waking up at an unholy hour on Sunday morning worth it-mostly. Do you have any idea how much being this happy scares me? More than flying, more than swimming with sharks with a bleeding leg, more than being so far out in the ocean that I can't see more than 3 inches under the water, more than ventriloquist dummies, ladders and down escalators. It terrifies me.
The morning after any night that I spend with him, feels like the first few minutes after sex with a new person. "Did he enjoy it as much as I did? I had an amazing time, but what if he's laying there thinking that I am insufferable, and he can't wait for me to leave?" The trip to Vegas together was possibly one of the scariest things I've ever done. I had to be alone with him for two whole days, and hope that at the end of it, he didn't see some side of me that he couldn't stand, or realize I am the most annoying person in the world.
What is it about the potential to be truly happy that makes me pee my pants and cry like a little girl? Oh no! Someone I could possibly develop a healthy and happy relationship with! RUN! Oh dear God! Someone who is nice to me and treats me well, and seems to genuinely enjoy my company! He must be hiding something. He probably secretly hates me and just doesn't know how to tell me. Sweet mother Mary and little baby Jesus! I'm happy. Only a matter of time until I fuck it up and it all falls apart.
Is it knowing that losing something good will hurt more than losing something shitty, that makes this all so scary?
What kind of terrible character flaw makes a person so scared and distrustful of genuine happiness, that they are honestly surprised when they go another week without their fantastic boyfriend breaking up with them?
I'm not perfect, I know that. I mean come on, my dad is bipolar, my mom was a stark raving drunk, I don't talk to like 90% of my family, my exboyfriend fake died on me, then called me at two a.m. a year later from a bar, half wasted wanting to sleep with me. And I'm such a pushover, I still talk to him! I'm still convinced he wants to be friends! Can you spell L-O-S-E-R?! I am surrounded by crazy people, I come from less than nothing and I am so far from perfect, perfect isn't even a mirage on the horizon anymore. But there are good things about me too. I'm funny, I'm fiercely loyal, I love with all my heart and to the very fucking end, I would do anything for the people I care about, and on my better days I am pretty damn smart too. I deserve love, and to be happy.
But for whatever reason, I am so shit scared of it, I've spent the last 23 years and 10 months running from it, and now that it's staring me in the face, I don't know how to act. I feel like I'm standing in front of a crowd of people, about to publicly speak for the first time, and I have no idea what to do with my hands.
Hey, I never said I was good at this.