Sometimes having a blog is a wonderful outlet. I crucified Cartman here for two years, which enabled me to not be evil to her face. But sometimes having a blog is useless because I can’t say what I’m thinking because the people I’m talking about read the blog. That’s been going on for as long as I’ve been writing – “what if someone reads it?” Well, that’s sort of the point (at least with the book that no one read).
I read DutchBitch’s post about missing someone in her life. Go read it. I’ll wait. Ready?
That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking the last few months. I missed having someone in my life. I miss the intimacy that comes with knowing – and completely trusting – another soul. To be honest, I had given up on ever finding anything even close to that. I’d been cheated, been mistreated, and I stopped wondering when I’d be loved (nod to Linda Ronstadt. Now try to get that song out of your head. You’re welcome).
Then I met “Bridget” – and, well, wow. Just wow. When we started talking, I made a promise to myself. I promised that I would be honest with myself about the mistakes I’ve made in the past and that I would not make them with “Bridget.” When I met her for the first time, I knew I couldn’t afford to make those mistakes again because she was someone worth the effort. The thing is, I really don’t have to try to not fuck it up. I don’t react the same way, I don’t think the same way and I am not the same person that I was. So not making the same mistakes is kind of easy. And “Bridget” makes it easy for me to be myself. I never feel that I am failing her or falling short of her expectations. She doesn’t make me want to be someone I’m not – because she accepts me for who I am. And I love her for it. That alone set me free. She really has no idea how she has awakened and inspired me.
Because of the insight of the personality profile of that dating site – I found someone who gets it. Things have been going so well that it’s actually a little scary – but I’m not afraid. Nothing is perfect. We have different communication styles and we’ve had to find a way for both of us to be heard. We are both concerned with the other’s happiness and comfort level, which makes everything so much easier because we don’t have to fight for what we need; we merely have to ask. As we grow closer, sometimes we don’t even have to ask, it is just automatically given. We both have some baggage. The difference is we aren’t requiring the other to carry it for us.
A long time ago, I wrote something about trust. I said, more or less, that trust is not about the other person being trustworthy – it’s about me trusting myself and being willing to risk failure. And now, all these years later, I actually understand what I was talking about.
I didn’t learn how to swim by sticking my toe in the water. I didn’t tell the pool that if I gulped some water, I would have to get out – I learned to hold my breath while I was swimming. The water itself was neither friend nor foe – it simply existed. What I chose to do – drown or swim or stay away altogether – was my choice. I was afraid to jump in, but I closed my eyes and did it anyway because I wanted to swim more than I wanted to sit at the edge of the pool. I did not trust that the water would not drown me – I trusted myself to float, and then to swim.