Let’s talk about vulnerability. (damn)

The essence of typing it alone scares the living lights out of me. I have problems with it. It sometimes feels like I’m relinquishing my shield for something that I will never know the fate of, or where I can’t calculate the correct measures upon one event. It’s like trusting someone, knowing that they have the power to basically crush and destroy every inch of my well built metal armor. The thought of trusting someone fully, without having to doubt their sincerity and their silk heart, is just something very raw and naive from my perspective.  I took an attachment style test last night.  I was curious as to what made my last relationship fall into a pit of disaster. My head was so assure that he was the one. But then again, talking about the one is just a figment of one’s mind. Avoidance was the result of the 30 minute quiz I took, it took me 30 minutes just to see how much of a failure I was. 

Avoidance as an act of love to yourself. During this long distance relationship venture, one thing I’ve learned was that I wasn’t protecting the relationship, but rather I was protecting myself. My defense mechanism built up to a certain level where the relationship became just a mere status to this reckless world of sorority. I thought everything was going well. 

You know, with the minimal calls, minimal texts, ‘good morning’ formalities and the hidden poetries I’ve made of him.  Up to this point, I am glad that he took the choice to break things off and not continue this 3.5 years going venture filled with regular formalities that felt dull and unwieldy. I know he deserved more than just someone who couldn’t break down her trust issues.

Because, that’s the thing about long distance relationships. 

(and I’m not talking about long distance relationships in the context of social distancing, because that’s just juvenile)

The moment you don’t trust that person, the moment you stopped asking how their day was, the moment you ask them the question ‘do you need me?’. The moment you don’t have the same gut churning feeling that you used to have when he would come to your house at night to eat a meal you’ve been dying to have, but couldn’t because it’s passed curfew.  Then that’s when you know. You’ve outgrown the relationship. Both of you might not have changed, but the relationship did. And that’s okay. It’s healthier to part ways and maybe one day eventually cross-paths with minds that are slightly less hectic and chaotic with dreams and goals you both have reached and attained.  In conclusion, love. 

Love recklessly. Love as if no one’s watching. Cherish as if you only have 3 days left with each other. Care as if that’s the only thing you’re good at.