Or “Making Peace With Absolute Uncertainty”
It’s been a few days since my blog took an uncharacteristically dramatic turn in real-time. I’ve never shied away from the ugly truth here, and I won’t start now, so let me just admit that I’ve been a bit of a wreck. This stems in part from the mental and emotional stress I know that I triggered in The Voyeur, and also in part to the bizarre realization itself. I mean, really, heart, what gives?
Of all the people I met, why him? While he was not the worst by a long shot, he’d be the first to admit that he’s pretty fucked up. There are red flags. There are concerning patterns of behavior. We fall on opposite sides of many political and social issues. Between the two of us, we very literally have a Brady Bunch situation happening in the kids department. And yet…
This feeling is peculiar. It’s not like blinders — I still clearly see all the obstacles and potential pitfalls. It’s not as though I’m brushing aside deal breakers out of desperation either. I acknowledge that we both have a sizeable collection of shit that follows us around, even as we actively work to break free of its emotional choke hold. It’s that this strange foreign wave of love is seeping in from the edges, imbuing my perspective with a confidence that doesn’t assuage my doubts so much as it bursts onto the scene, shouting to be recognized. And heeded.
Seeing as how I recently wrote that I felt sure I was supposed to be bolder, confident when faced with risk, how am I to interpret this but as a real-world challenge to my resolution? If I shy away now, then am I really living boldly? If I linger in the guilt over any distress I may have caused through my honesty, I fear I miss the point.
With that in mind, I wrote this today:
I’m not sorry.
I love you unapologetically.
Regardless of whether it’s sudden. Regardless of whether you understand it. Regardless of whether it’s wise.
Worst case scenario: I’ll work through my feelings alone. I can do this if I have to. I’m good at it.
Worst case scenario: I’ll still care about you. I’ll still want to know what’s going on with you. I’ll still want to see you. I’m not afraid of doing hard things.
This doesn’t scare me.
Life is short.
I’m not sorry I love you.