“No, I know
I’m a walking contradiction and it shows
Got a history of being in control
I’m aware that I could end up here alone
But then we spoke
I had a backbone made of glass, and then it broke
Now I stay up and I wait here by the phone
if you’re ready, all I mean is we could go
I’ve never craved someone’s attention
As much as yours, thought I should mention
that
I bet all my money that I will
Lose to you and hand you my life
Here’s to hoping you’re worth all my time”
Lyrics by Gracie Abrams & Aaron Dessner (Aaron, my king – I love you. Lol)
I love, love. I am forever and always a romantic. I write about love and relationships. While not all of the relationships I write about are romantic, they certainly play a huge role.
It’s tough out here for us lovers, sometimes though. I’m not the best at not feeling, not caring, or turning it off. Once I’m there, I’m there (i.e., once I have feelings for you, I’m . . . stuck 🤣). There’s something about Gracie Abrams’ lyrics that hit me in just the right way at the moment.
She sings (read this as one thought/line):
I’ve never craved someone’s attention
As much as yours, thought I should mention
that
I bet all my money that I will
Lose to you and hand you my life
Here’s to hoping you’re worth all my time
When you stand on the edge of interest or infatuation and you sense this thing is developing and your feelings for someone are growing, there’s a moment when you make a decision to jump in or take some steps back. I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about risk versus regret in recent times. A heart that is beaten and bruised reaches a point where it begins to question literally everything. Ev-er-y-thing. What once felt easy and part of the deepest part of you, something you used to love about yourself (i.e., loving and caring easily), transforms into something scary. I am not risk averse. Lately, I’ve been extremely risk averse. I feel trapped there in that place where I fear taking the risks.
But when you’ve lost too much, you question your decisions. You question who you’ve fallen in love with. You question who you chose to trust. You question it all. The problem with this, as I’ve come to accept in recent weeks, is that there are never guarantees in life, love, and relationships. In my heart of hearts I know that it’s possible to find your true companion. I (perhaps far too stubbornly) still believe in the possibility of a soul mate (or more than one in a lifetime). But it’s not easy to reconcile this after heartbreak and then unrelated grief that follows.
My therapist recently said (this is a massive paraphrase) that there may not be a clear timeline of comfort in knowing a person. When do you know – when do you know you’re seeing red flags or interpreting something innocent, through your own trauma and issues? When do you know a person is trustworthy? When do you open yourself to deeper levels of intimacy with someone?
You don’t. There’s no easy answer. There’s no magic formula. I think there are probably some signs. I think there are probably relationships and people we should avoid. But we could also be very wrong and miss out on something or someone that is “worth all my time.” I’ve been guarding my heart, time, and dreams jealously in recent memory. But it’s not really me.
Let it happen. I’ll let it happen. I’ll take the risk and let it happen. Because the alternative is simply unacceptable.
Writing in the Margins 