12:00:00 AM

Confession: Sometimes, I feel like a hypocrite when I write about being brave in my blog when I am scared shitless most of the time. I preach about taking a leap of faith, about not being afraid to get hurt, about grabbing opportunities - but my being adventurous does not apply to how I deal with relationships.

I am very cautious about investing emotionally in people; this was pointed out to me on more than one occasion. To date, I've only proverbially jumped without the equally proverbial parachute twice.

First was, obviously, with my ex-boyfriend/ex-fiance/ex-boyfriend, with whom I was involved for five long years. Although we ultimately broke things off, I still consider that risk as one that really paid off. For most of our relationship, we were happy. We grew into good people (I like to think), and I am immensely grateful for the time we shared.

The second didn't really pay off in the traditional sense. I sort of got involved with someone, invested time and a whole lotta effort in the hope of making things work, only to get burned in the end. Peanut butter never tasted quite the same since; unrequited love really takes the taste out of it.

For the record, I don't regret taking the leap the second time; I gained an incredible friend when it was all over, and I can say with all honesty that I wouldn't have it any other way. But maybe, just maybe, because I let it drag on for longer than I should have when I could have learned the same lesson with much less pain.
A choice.
(photo from the internet)
I know that one experience does not necessarily translate to another, but a part of me has grown afraid of going through the same thing I went through the second time. So the question at hand is, the next time I'm confronted with a door - one I can choose to open or not - will I brave up or run away? That remains to be seen.


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Hello, reader! Thank you for wasting your time reading my blog. I do hope you enjoyed whatever you stumbled upon. :)