First Light

I remember Cile telling me one day how I used to hate guys. No I didn’t, I told her. But then I stepped back and began to hear all these things I used to say and see these things I used to do that sure proved her right. Loving and caring for someone has, at times (actually most of the time) ended rather unfortunately for me (if I haven’t already broadcasted that enough). And oh it’s so easy to play the victim after the proverbial organ in my body has been shattered to molecules. Woh is me! No one loves me! It was a mighty horrid time in my life…and my poor friends’ lives who were attacked daily by my self-inflicted anguish (Thanks guys, you’re the best!).

For a long time I used these heartbreaking instances as hard-earned lessons of what can occur when you care about someone who doesn’t care about you in the same way. I reminded myself everyday of that horrible feeling and vowed NEVER EVER to let that happen to me again. In effect I made myself over-cautious and hyper-afraid of everything around me that posed the slightest threat to my newfound view on love. I turned my head away from every possibility that I used to pray for, hating everything that had to do with this emotion that seemed so easily accessible to everyone but me. I had become what I never imagined I could ever become: a cynic, a pessimist – A NONBELIEVER.

I molded myself into this new role with the greatest of ease. I became uncomfortable around everyone whose eyes had been shaped into hearts and whose personas had turned towards this bright light of love whose rays never shone on me. I used jealousy and contempt to shun the greatest of emotions, more often than once unintentionally hurting those close to me because of it.

But what a joke this was! Because while I spoke and acted the part of the pessimist, inside I was secretly hoping that this really wasn’t me. I was irony incarnated, deliberately uttering words and carrying out actions which defied their actual meanings. I really did believe in love and that it could happen one day; that the happy endings in movies weren’t just images on the big screen, but events that actually happened in real life. I was just using this façade as protection from that which I was so afraid of: not ever being loved back. I was lying to everyone, most especially myself, and everyone could see that except me…until now.

I’ve realized lately that cynics can be converted too and that the one thing I was lacking in life wasn’t love, it was trust – self-trust. I couldn’t trust myself to be OPEN to the possibility of feeling for someone again, and that, my friends, was the source of my downfall. I was too afraid that I wouldn’t be able to handle hurt or pain of that magnitude if it happened again. I was so scared that it would feel a hundred times worse than before if I got fooled into being optimistic.

I’m not gonna lie and say that everything is okay now and that I don’t feel fear anymore because I’m scared more than ever. But I’m willing to see the courage I’ve got to face this fear that I often create myself. I’m not gonna let on that I’ve forgotten everything that caused me to hurt so much before because you don’t ever forget that kind of pain. But I’m willing to test my tenacity to feel this pain again, cry because of it but not be consumed by it. I’m not gonna say that the walls around my heart have been torn down and that I’m ready to jump the first opportunity that comes along. Those walls were quick and easy to build, although much harder to penetrate and destroy. But I’m willing to open the doors and windows if only to let the air of possibility back in.
Uncertainty can be scary, I know, but I heard somewhere that “Not knowing is the sweetest mystery in loving another person. And how much you can love is the greatest discovery you can have of yourself.” Discovery meeting mystery, there's a match made in heaven!