The Scary Challenge of Love

Listening to old school Mayday songs officialised my deepest, shelved, neglected fear...

I think I am afraid to Love.

I loved my grandma more than anyone else alive. But she left me.

I loved my dinosaur since the day I set my eyes on her when I was 4+. I loved her for being the first pink item I ever got to own, and not have my sis fight with me. But she's in shreds too... and I increasingly feel like I am am hugging her corpse to sleep every night.

:(

If I can choose, I'll wouldn't choose Love. It hurts me too permanently.

So, I block out everything that could touch my heart. The only things I love openly... took form in the likes of chocolate, cheeses, possessions (sometimes)... I grew to fall in love only with 'refillables'... money inclusive... so that I may sometimes allow myself to get lost in a periodic spell of obsession...

Basically, loving anything that I would grow old with was no longer an option... an option like this is simply too dangerous...

These were subconcious behaviour I suppose.

It's only when I met someone I used to love... the 'unrefillable' object... that I found myself conceding to my never-disappeared ability to love.

:(

And it terribly frightens me!

It's like... I will not open up a musical card for fear that the music would end one day... my reluctance to eat the last fresh roche in the box cos I'm afraid I would never buy another box with roches as fresh... I'll get too terrified to wear a new favourite top frequently cos I'm afraid it'd turn out of shape from too much washing...

Yet, I know the battery in the card would turn rusty one day anyway, and the music wouldn't play.

I know the roche would turn soft in less than 2 weeks.

And I know I will get too fat soon enough to be unable to fit into the new favorite top.

.......

And so, when the opportunity came for me to meet someone I've been longing to meet, I chickened out. It's been 5+ months... I'd sunk into countless moments of momentary depressions at how I feel so star-crossed with this person... and almost conceded to fate that I might have seen the last of this person.

But when he calls, it frightened me so, so much, I chickened out.

I justified to myself- this was the best thing to do. A 'unrefillable' like this can only upset me with its departure one day... isn't it? As much as I may have loved this person, the foreseeable painful aftermath of his departure was too tragic for me to bear. Especially so, when the departure was DEFINITELY taking place in less than 48hrs.

So, being an idiot was the easiest and best way out.

Then, I realised I must be handling things wrongly... cos there was no way I could bring myself to sleep that night, and 25 million scenarios of what could have happened just totally exploded in my head.

Thanks to Jasmine, I gave up being stupid... and met Him anyway the next day.

Things went fine, I had a good time (+ few good laughs)...

I don't know if Love still falls in the picture at this point... part of me certainly hope it doesn't!!! I'm still darned no balls....

But I'm looking forward somewhat, to meeting Him soon again.

I'd like to be in denial and tell myself it's the jokes and company I look forward to... not the person per se... that should be enough of a shield... right?

I know I would look back and feel damned juvenile about this entry.

Fark.