I'm making rules for myself.
Rule #1- Harness your "crazy" before she speaks. She is irrational.
Rule #2- No more talking about his ex-girlfriend- or mentioning that I have weird dreams that he leaves me for her, and has a stash of portraits she paints of him. Yeah, dreams are fuckin' weird.
Rule #3-No more wedding talk. Because that's just fucking scary to dudes.
Rule #4- ease up on the dairy. Eating blocks of cheese isn't normal.
Sometimes, my filter is just OFF. And by sometimes, I mean 99.9% of the time. Sometimes, I just want to ask absurd and creepily personal questions without thinking how it may come off to the person I'm asking. Like, "did her tongue feel as soft as mine?" Or some shit along those lines, that's really unnecessary.
And I realized this- when I'm being totally fucking absurd- it's really just because I'm afraid. I'm afraid he won't love me anymore. I'm afraid he thinks about her. I'm afraid maybe he doesn't want to marry me. I'm afraid that I'll have to feel heartbreak again. I'm afraid that I've already said too much scary shit that I won't be able to regain my confident demeanor.
I'm afraid that maybe he doesn't desire me the way he used to. That he abhors my taste in pop music so much that he can't bare the thought that I can be such a pop tart. Or that he wishes I was more intellectual, that I didn't love the Kardashians, hip hop culture and tabloids. That basically, he wishes I was more like her. And that I'd start an Etsy shop, throw away my television and talk a little fucking softer.
This whole being wickedly, bananas, in LOVE is scary, because sometimes I just flash to the thought of not having him in my life and I lose my breathe. The thought is so intensely terrifying to me that it feels like someone slugged me in the stomach, or told me I was allergic to cake and couldn't eat it anymore. Or that Britney Spears was dead. Which would be sad as shit, I love her. Don't judge me.
When we're afraid, we hold tighter. We cling. We grip until our knuckles are so white and our hands are so tired that we simply can't hang on anymore.
I cling to the moments when I feel purely loved, when he's tracing my eyebrows with his fingertips and I'm defenseless, peaceful and trusting in his arms. I cling to the look on his face when I'm wearing my new dress, and I decided to put on a bra, for once. I cling to the grip of his hand when I walk with him and to the curve of his lower back when he holds me.
I cling because those moments make my life happy....and I'm crippled with fear of the things that could take them from me, i.e. my crazy. someone else. him not wanting "forever" with me. And maybe some weird allergy from an antibiotic, or a poisonous spider. Or something.
....but just like anything, when we're grasping, like squeezing a bar of soap, the thing will slip away. I certainly don't want to cause the destruction of something so unbroken and whole, like us. So I have to stop.
SO, MY MANTRA IS TO BE UNAFRAID.
To risk the hurt, because we can overcome the emptiness of a broken heart but even a vivid imagination couldn't replace the experience of LOVE.
To know that when I cling to a moment, I'm not trusting that there will be another equally as moving, perfect moment together.
To believe his words, without waiting for the shoe to drop. If I look up long enough, and keep staring, just waiting, eventually I'll will something into existence. Maybe not a shoe. But something. Repeat: thoughts. are. things.
To face FEAR in the face, even if it's a 400lb bully with halitosis and steel toed boots.
When the fear is gone, we jump. We dive. We make the landing, we take the chance. We learn a lesson, we try oysters. Or dancing in public. Or that new whacked out position. Or cranberry lipstick. When the fear is gone is when the good stuff happens.
Nothing extraordinary has ever happened when fear was the motivation.
So baby, I won't be afraid. And I'll stop pointing out my color palette for our "someday" wedding whenever I see the color amber. Or eggplant.
What's YOUR MANTRA????