If you were to inquire about what I fear most, my wit and sarcasm would shift into automatic overdrive with, “clowns and porcelain dolls’, which is true. However, those two creepy things are second in line.
Okay, here we go… this isn’t easy for me, articulating my thoughts on a verbal level when it comes to opening up about my worst fear. Even though I am replacing speaking with typing, I still have difficulties calming my thoughts and getting them fashionably organized.
Love…love is my big bad fear. Always has been and always will be. I think that even if I found true love one day that this fear of mine would remain, it would just morph into future phases. When someone is born as a mortal mutant, walls instantly are built up and trust is automatically created as a sticky tricky trick (yeah I know, got a little Dr. Seuss inspired there).
See, I believe with every molecule of my porcelain structure, that when you fall in love with someone, it entails giving every piece of yourself to them. Every piece! Every beautifully twisted piece of you. The walls smash down, unveiling the darkness in my cerebral storm. Introducing my best friends; Lock, Shock, and Barrel. Exposing my beaten down heart. Every aspect that I work like crazy to keep buried six feet under in a secretly secure location, now revealed. This freaks me out, but it isn’t the core reason why love has been entitled as my big bad fear. The lingering question. The lingering unknown.
Will the guy I have fallen for love me for me as I would love him for him?
Will he protect my heart and mind or use my faults and insecurities as my destruction?
I have experienced the latter half of the latter lingering question. And, inevitably, this crippling fear has added a third section to this endless maze…
If my walls should crumble like The Great Wall once did, will lightning strike twice in the exact same spot?
And as much as I wish that this introverted insanity ended here, it does not. It continues to forcefully ripple out.
If I meet my mirrored match, will he and I have a “Jack and Sally” love or will there rise a day when his flame no longer ignites with mine?
Do I even deserve to find true love?
I know that I’m intelligent and have a sweet personality. I know that I have a good sense of humor (dark humor at times) and am genuine in my actions towards others. I’m a genuinely good person (I hope). But, I am not the beautiful, gorgeous, sexy chick that gets double take looks. In today’s world looks are primary while any other aspect comes second, you’ve got to have what physically appeals to the opposite species. No guy looks at the broken toy from Misfit Island and thinks to himself, “Hey look at that adorable broken girl, I gotta get me some of that.” Cute and adorable keeps you at a permanent friend status. This is not me trying to access pity from others. This is simply me stating what I have learned, what I have experienced.
God I feel crippled right now.
Within the chaos there are two absolutes…
I am simultaneously breathing life and murdering my dream of finding true love.
I don’t know what true love is, but I do know what love isn’t.
(the struggle is acutely real)