S: Flight Risk

I have a backlog of posts to write about how great things are going with Guy. I have to tell you about our fantastic road trip to Kansas City. I have to tell you how we’ve already started tossing around the “L” word and how right and obvious that feels even this early in the relationship. I have to tell you how I think about him all the time and how I can’t wait to see him and how I find excuses to be near his office so we can have an unscheduled lunch or how I’ll go over to his house in the middle of the night just to snuggle up with him for a few precious hours. I have to tell you that he makes me think things I never let myself think and feel things I never let myself feel.

I have to tell you how, already, he’s had me over twice to have dinner with him and his son and how he’s invited me to spend a few days on vacation with them in a couple of months and how he wanted me to meet his parents this weekend. And I have to tell you how it seems like this is something I’m going to be involved in for a very long time if I’m lucky because it has been unbelievably great and it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing one stumbles upon very often in life and I’m not sure what I did to deserve the good fortune, but I’ll take it.

But last night he got upset with me and, despite my attempts to explain and apologize, signed out of our conversation with a terse, “Ok. Good night.” Not the usual declarations of love and how much he missed me because we hadn’t gotten to see each other. He went to bed angry and not loving me and there was nothing I could do. No way I could fix it. I had really messed up. And so, I am writing this post instead.

I feel like a flight risk today.

I don’t want to be a flight risk. But I am fighting my usual instincts to just bag it because things are getting tough and I feel bad about what happened and I’m injured by his reaction. Suddenly I find myself wondering if it isn’t just too hard. I feel foolish for letting myself open up too much too soon. I put myself completely in his hands without any of my usual protection and now my gut reaction is to close back up and get some protection in place so I can feel safe and in control again.

Essentially, I let myself stand too close to the fire and I got singed last night. Now I want to back as far away from the fire as possible, even if it’s cold out there in the dark. At least the cold and dark doesn’t blister and leave scars.

The thing is, though...I’m drawn to the fire. I want the fire. And, it turns out, I need the fire. The fire makes me glow. The fire gives me energy and life. The fire fuels me and I fuel it in return. It’s not the fire’s fault that it can burn. The same qualities that give the fire the power to warm me and give me life and make me glow are the qualities that give it the power to burn. The burn is part of the deal.

And the more I think about it, the more I think I can suffer a few burns for the sake of the warm glow and all the amazing things the fire does for me every other minute I’m near it. Burns heal. Blisters don’t last forever. Scars add character and help you grow. Finding a fire that burns only for me is too rare an experience to give up on after a little singe.

Guy has already apologized for his overreaction this morning. I appreciate his apology, but think it unnecessary since I still feel like the one who messed up. He did react strongly, mostly because he was tired, and it’s good that he doesn’t blame me for that, but I still feel like the issue hasn’t been resolved. And my mind isn’t in the right place for trying to explain myself, so we'll have more to discuss later.

I know I’ll feel better once we have a chance to talk. We are pretty good at talking things through and understanding each other. In fact, one of the things I am really enjoying about this relationship is working on it. Even when we’re working through difficult things, it feels good because I know we’ll get it figured out and be closer for it. We don’t get defensive or antagonistic or blame each other. I’ve never found it so easy to resolve conflicts with someone.

And I have the overwhelming feeling that this is really worth it. Perhaps right now, at this moment, it would be easier to fly away, but I doubt I would get very far and that easy feeling would only be temporary anyway. The sense of loss and the search for someone else who loves me for exactly who I am would be far more difficult.

And would not involve any making up. The making up is...ahem...important.

And so, because I really just can't help myself, back to our regularly scheduled programming of missing him and wondering when I will get to see him again…already in progress.