I'm Not Intrepid, and Don't Dare Call Me Tenacious

The dryer wasn't fixed until after I had washed four loads of laundry. The dog was peeing on the floor when I entered the dining room. I have a paranoia that whatever I cook for dinner tonight will not be eaten. For years I have made myself too busy for a relationship, because I'm scared of falling in love.

I know that I can love the wrong person. The way I love is so all-encompassing, though, that I'm afraid I might possibly fall in love with the wrong person and just not have the mind to walk away from it. It took a transformation of my entire being to do it once. I was completely in love with my ex boyfriend the day I told him to leave, the day I kissed him goodbye, and the day I told him to never call me again. I don't think that maturity has made it easier to fall in love and walk away.

It's like I'm hoping to outgrow my need for romance, so that I can make a wise decision about what decent young man to share my home, income, family, and interests with.

I have loved deeply before, and I knew the things that he was doing to hurt me, but I loved him so much that I honestly didn't care about the pain.

There's a chance I will do that again.

I am afraid that all I've done is insulate myself from mistakes, but I haven't really learned how to prevent them. I am scared that I will not have the power to make myself hurt like hurts to tell your lover he is dead to you. I am scared that I will love a terrorist again, and that I will be too weak to walk away.

Perhaps the answer is going to be when a man falls in love with me, and busts his ass to show me that he can't live without me, and that he's worth all the potential. I guess I'll stop hiding so I can be found. I'm certainly not looking. But I am hiding myself from lookers.