Oh what I wouldn't do to avoid emotions. I have never been emotionally attached to anyone. Even my parents say I was a distant child, loving to cuddle and have my own back rubbed, but never succumbing to the hugs and kisses that followed. Strangely willing to give back rubs to other people, but never wanting any affection afterward. Doing tasks merely for the satisfaction of someone else's satisfaction. These traits have inevitably followed me to my teenage years and will undoubtedly follow me into my twenties and thirties and fourties and so on. Emotions are the evil spawn of the butterflies that fill your stomach when you are "happy". They infest your intestines with little maggots of feelings that burrow deep inside you, waiting until the most inopportune time to chew through your organs and hurt you in ways no one can understand until you're doubled over in pain with tears running down your cheeks. The pain that fills your body is a pain that no aspirin can alleviate. Doctors might have fancy terminology for it but the common slang term is a "broken heart". The worst thing that could happen to you should you let anyone get too close for too long.
Usually I fear these moments, the close ones, where the risk of attachment becomes all too real. Recently I discovered that I am a hypocrit. I am living that way right now. I have unknowingly, and yet completely knowingly, opened myself up to a man who could potentially treat me the right way. I live in fear of this man and my instincts still tell me to shun him, or at least his feelings, from my heart, as I have. But lately, I have discovered a secret about myself that I never knew. My heart has a backdoor, one without a lock, that likes to swing open every once in a while to to a strong breeze, probably from the flapping of wings of those damn butterflies. Somehow this man is sneaking his way into my heart and it is messing with my mind.
A man has never stepped foot inside my heart before so the feeling is confusing. My mind is telling me that I am only "attached" to him but my heart is pounding from his footsteps and it's saying "no, you're falling in love". Which is scarier to imagine, I can't decide. Attachment leads to a messy break-up at some point in the future, one that could potentially ruin quite a few friendships. But falling in love requires sacrificing my whole self. Part of me asks "well, if you are really in love than it's not really a 'sacrifice' and even if it was, if you were really in love, you wouldn't care about the sacrifice so long as you are together." That part of me would be correct. It is in the admitting stage where I get stuck. What do I believe? What do I admit? What do I feel? Why am I so confused? Why am I lying to myself?
Today, proof surfaced. I was having an argument with said man and towards the end I found myself telling him that I would change myself for him, despite previous promises to myself to never change anything about myself for a man. I caught myself as I was tellling him this and yet proceeded to say it. I began to have an epiphany. If I am willing to change for a man, does that mean I have found the one worth this "sacrifice" of love? I wasn't sure. Not too much later in our conversation, this man scolded me and told me never to change for him or anyone. Who I am is who people want to see, not his creation of me. That is when I knew. Someone who would want that for me, to be honest and truthful to myself before anyone else, was perfect for me.
This is when I am supposed to get all sappy and write about how much I love this man and how I would do anything for him. Well, I'm not. My instincts have regained control of my brain and my heart. However, the two have agreed to collaborate and mull over the new information that has been produced. Updates to follow.
I will admit one thing: I have never felt anything like this feeling in my life. This man is special. Really special.
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