This is that beautiful early step in the wrong direction. This is that can’t-get-enough, giddy, breathless, silly phase. This is the good part, when it doesn’t seem possible for it to ever be any other way.
I take another sip of my “Tall Skinny Vanilla Latte Thank You Have The Best Day!” (She said that to every single customer and it got pretty annoying. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone actually had the BEST day…but surely, on one of your best days ever, you wouldn’t be at Starbucks in the middle of the afternoon. I sure wouldn’t be.)
I try to think back to when this part of a relationship usually ends. I don’t remember, it’s been too long since I was sucked into dating someone really. For the past couple of years, I’ve been in and out of short bursts of flings and things. Who knows what you could even call them. But they definitely haven’t lasted this long, AKA long enough for me to start worrying about liking someone too much, getting attached, getting hurt, blah blah blah, etc. etc. It’s a little frightening how much we have to worry about these things, now that we’re at this stage in our lives. Some people still see themselves as young and invincible, but I’m definitely feeling a bit worn down. I don’t think anyone should have to have their heart ripped out more than once, that’s just not fair. Therefore, I will not be signing myself up for a second go-around, and I think that’s most people’s sentiment. So what do we do when we start getting that sickening irking in our gut that’s saying, “Hey you! You’re about to fall face first you idiot! Get outta there!”? Do we listen, and run like little chicken shits? It’s an option.
Option #2: Let the pieces fall. Take the risk. Put my heart on the chopping block right when it’s finally become whole again. THIS IS NOT AN OPTION. Obviously.
So that brings us to Option #3. Don’t run like a little bitch, and don’t put all my eggs in one basket either. The blissful in-between. The gray area that, for most, is impossible to stay in for too long. Well fuck that—I’m going to stay in it for as long as I damn well please. Maybe this means we can stay in the “beautiful early step in the wrong direction” for the entirety of whatever this is. No fighting, no boredom, no strings. Is this even possible? Challenge accepted!
It took about a day after that to realize that I was fighting for an impossible, unrealistic dream. Sure, I can keep it up for a little while longer. Hide the emotions, play it cool, pretend not to care. But I’m not built to bottle things up. So this is what the options change to for those of us who aren’t very in control…
Option #1 becomes running after you can’t take it anymore—after you’ve lived out the blissful in-between, squeezed it for every last drop, and now you must GTFO before you pull your hair out or fall in love or something like that. Option #2 stays the same—jump off, leap into the abyss.
Why are these our only options? Shouldn’t there be multiple ways to protect ourselves from all the bitter blues of breakups? Think about it—there are multiple ways of protection for almost anything. Birth control: condoms, pills, shots, patches, and more. Burglary: house alarm, sensor light, surveillance, Dad’s shotgun. UV rays: sunscreen (spray or lotion), wear more clothes, sit in the shade.
And then we come to our hearts, our feelings: never get in too deep, run away from anything real, and never look back OR…oh wait, nope, that’s it. That’s the only way to ensure a pain-free experience.
It’s 2012. I have options for every single decision I make, every day. Except this. C’est la vie, right?