May 27, 2011
And when will this fear dissipate?This fear of losing everything...
Part of me gets it. Parts of me is perfectly capable of understanding that the worry will get me nowhere. That I don't have to be afraid. That, even if it were to happen again (be it a fire or what have you), I'd pull through in the most excellent way possible with all circumstances considered.
You can't always prevent disaster.
Not always.
That is why I rather wonder if this isn't a different sort of trepidation.
Rather than a fear of losing all my (few but adored) possessions, I wonder if now I'm more scared to lose that which I actually have some control over.
Like the rest of my life.
Like this man who has taken a piece of my soul.
When we first met he related his hopes and dreams and there it was, the direction in which we differed, threatening to cause some consternation either here or down the road. He wants children. And me... Well I'm not so sure about that one. And how do you take that away from someone? How do you reconcile the possibility of wanting opposite paths? How do you meet in the middle of that one? Either you want them or you don't. You can't compromise on kids.
But we've talked about it since and he's certain it won't be an issue.
I, however, am not so certain. How can one be? How can one be so sure?
I know, for myself, that if it were one of my desires, one of my dreams, one of my hopes, that it would not be so easily squashed. Something so big and sweeping and beautiful -- you could not so easily rip it away from me. I would not be so very compromising.
How can it be as easy as changing lanes?
I fear it cannot be.
And then I turn to his infatuation. It hit on such a sudden that now I worry if it couldn't just strike so suddenly again for someone new.
We hired a new technician. A girl. A cute one according to some. And what if she has everything he saw in me plus that something more he's been dreaming of in silence? What if she wants kids and a dog and mortgage to chain her down for the next twenty years? What if I'm just the stepping stone he needed to tromp on to finally get to her?
Haven't I seen this before? Haven't I lived it before? Haven't I been a stepping stone for the man I considered my one true love?
Part of me gets it. Part of me knows that if that's how it's going to be, than that's how it's going to be. Eventually I will move on. I will get by. I will survive and thrive and live to breathe in another day. Part of me knows I cannot fear these things. Not wholly, anyway. The better part of me know I must enjoy what I have while I have it. That I must have faith again in order to obtain that which is gold.
And he is gold.
But if I don't relate my fears and doubts now, my greater fear is that I will close myself off to the possibility.
Just as I've been afraid of garnering new things for the fear of another disaster, I am also afraid of committing to this love just to have it ripped from my fingers. I'm afraid of being comfortable. Of contentment. I'm afraid to believe in him. For he could destroy me in a way that no fire could.
I suppose that's the risk we all take.
You can't always prevent disaster...
Well, not always, anyway.