Epiphany

Scared.

The reason I always fall for the ‘wrong’ type (or as I like to put it, the right ones at the wrong time) is because I am scared.

Scared to fall in love again, for someone to care for me like I deserve to be cared for, scared to be left on my own again.

By ruling out the ‘nice ones’, I thus avoid commitment, plus I ultimately know I will end up hurting them.

Ever since my college days, when I really discovered boys and flirting, I have had a wicked wandering eye, like a magpie on the lookout for new shiny things to collect. I can’t help it, I love to desire and feel desired…in truth, I am like a permanently horny teenager! Here my logic is not as flawed, as at least Mr Wrong can’t complain when my head frequently turns.

By choosing the unobtainable, I know deep down they’ll never truly commit to me, even though I may so desperately want them to. I suppose in a way this enables me to avoid completely opening up, so I am not entirely exposed, always keeping something back in order to protect myself. The fear of being hurt again has made me somewhat cold and cynical, so much so that sometimes I do not even recognise the person I once was, the person who was able to fully ‘let go’.

Two fine examples of Not-so-Wrong and Not-so-Right are in my life right now and I am torn between feeling too much for either of them. I know I’d hurt the latter, which he doesn’t deserve and would fall too hard and fast for the former, if things were different.

So for now, whilst I do not trust my own heart to make an informed decision, I shall let it frost over again and rebuild my metaphorical wall. That way, I won’t be happy but at least I’ll be safe.

  

In true thespian fashion, I will leave you with the last section of "Pretty Lies", from the Boy George Musical, "Taboo", my inner monologue, if you like....

I can never let you see the girl inside  

Won't let my defences slide 

I can't let you see my tears  

A little bit of fire drives the boys away  

But maybe I might let you stay  

If you show me that your love is real  

I've been trying to be something, I'll never be  

But I'm nothing special, there's no mystery 

I've been hiding from the world, and from myself  

Wanting love so desperately, oh so desperately  

If you see all the hurt in my eyes  

Will you laugh, will you run, will you carry me 

If I tell you that I'm weak and I'm scared  

Will that seem absurd? 

I'm the loneliest girl in the world

Til next time.