Myself

This starts with a boy. Not with a relationship or any kind of long term events in my life. Just a boy I met and liked who is already in a relationship, but liked me back. Nothing happened between us though. I don’t think I’m that girl, or I know I wouldn’t like to be. The thing that got me thinking is the fact that I know nothing about the relationship he has. Everything I know about the nothing that happened is what I know about myself.

It turns out that getting to know yourself is not easy or painless, but time consuming and nerve-racking. I believe most people like to think that they are something special. Our biggest insecurities come from this belief that we have to be a special piece of perfection so when we realize that this is not the case, we have the hardest time accepting it. I’ve been trying to work on this for a while now and it has been getting easier to accept my mistakes and shortcomings. It’s a long process in which I have to remind myself every day that mistakes are normal occurrences and getting discouraged is counterproductive .

Now, the question is, do other people do this as well? How many of us actually take time out of their busy days and try to figure out how they feel about themselves and their lives and why that is. The answer to this is a sad truth. I’ve been working on and with myself for years now, trying to figure out what goes on inside me and trying to get over traumas and scars. But most people don’t really do this, right? The easy thing to do after an unfortunate event is to let time pass and count on it to heal the wounds. Then we escape in new relationships or hobbies, jobs, movies, tv series and books. I say we, because the easy thing to do is easy for me as well. I’m just fighting it to the best of my abilities and those aren’t always enough.

Lately I’ve been feeling emotionally drained because of big changes in my daily activities and because of the recent experiences I’ve had dating. In stead of trying to find a new partner or at lease go out with someone new, I go out with people from work or seek the company of old friends and other environments that assure a competent excuse to refuse guys that express their interest. Even though I am well aware of this, I still do nothing to get moving. So I wait, I give myself time and try to get used to the idea of getting back out there.

The truth is that I am scared. I was told recently that I never really got over the deception I suffered of when I broke up with my first. I had to be told this in order to realize that it’s actually true and looking back awoke me to the reality that is my fear. I see this in other people and I envy those who don’t have it. I envy the people who have the courage to invest themselves into a relationship without knowing for sure that they won’t end up hurt and broken at the end of it. Rationally speaking, I know that no matter what, you always get hurt somehow. I know you can’t go through life without getting your ass kicked and still call it living. I know I can survive and be happy and enjoy life even if I have to go through another break-up or two, or five. I’m just waiting for my insides to catch up.

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