Falling Afraid

To be deathly real with you, 2018 was drabber than a dead pale tree on crackling land in a scorching drought. It started out pretty OK. I learned how to drive, I made new friends, but one decision led to the next and even though there are specks of amazing here and there, it's just mostly meh throughout: I was still reeling from the best relationship I've had. I was blueprinting my life around the hopes of returning to it. I desperately hopped between men I cared so little for, hoping that just one of them would stick on the wall.

At the end of the year, I physically opened up to the world and repelled, kept, and attracted the exact kinds of people I was hoping to. I scratched all my dating profiles out of the fear of getting found out by my coworkers, but moreover, out of the realization that this just wasn't getting me anywhere anymore.

So I let go. I let go of wanting a boyfriend. I let go of hoping to get back with my favorite ex. I let go of all that and reveled in being with my own self. I hung out and caught up with old friends. I went to places alone and felt okay doing so. Even when the one person I was hoping to make good acquaintances with let me down, I couldn't even get mad at their capriciousness because I was so OK about it.

So in the middle of my newfound peace and comfort with myself, I found the one thing I was praying so hard for the whole entire year.

Out of the blue, this dashing lad from high school materialized out of thin air and had the balls to hold awkward conversation with me for three hours straight, then take me to the movies, then to food, and drive me back. He also had the gall to change pronouns with me?

I tried not to think too much of it and shook it off, chalking it up to pure kindness and nostalgia, but holy cow did this man charm the kashoodles out of me.

Thing was, we kept talking and I soon realized that this person was clearly, surely, obviously making moves... and honestly, I was confused.

I was supposed to have crushes on my other friends. I was supposed to still hold on to my dreams of getting back together with my ex. I just never had the experience of having a suitor from a super bro-ey friend pool and it felt like breaking a non-existent bro-pact. Was I supposed to be all swept off my feet like that?

It was, by all means, brand new territory. Was I supposed to play cool? Was I supposed to whack him away like what I've been reading in dating horror stories? Was I supposed to bat away the hands I welcomed or pretend not to want to scoot closer on the bike rides home? I felt like the stickler nerd in class who didn't believe in fun but giggled along anyway.

So there I was, craving every single moment of coy affection that I wasn't sure how to return. There I was, unsticking the soles of my feet off the brakes. There I was, ever so confusedly removing humans from arbitrary friend-boxes.

There I was, slowly, carefully, falling scared.





Read partially on SoundCloud